


Across the Milky Way

by Cutekittenlady



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Mom, Keith will be there eventually, Texan Dad, at the very end, mama galra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:02:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutekittenlady/pseuds/Cutekittenlady
Summary: When a disgraced fighter pilot and a hardened warrior meet, the whole of the universe changes.(Title has been changed)((This work has been discontinued/abandoned))





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Get to know me on Twitter @cutekittenlady  
> And on my tumblr fic blog http://cutekittenlady.tumblr.com/

((Design I use for Keith's mom was originally thought up by blue-starr-in-the-sky-port on tumblr **[HERE ](http://blue-starr-in-the-sky-port.tumblr.com/post/156294291554/mama-galra-got-a-name-and-some-fancy-colors-3)** ))

* * *

 

Iverson hated hospital waiting rooms.

The hard chairs, the impersonal clean smell of the place, the other patients trying their hardest not to stare at his bandages, and the starch white walls that hurt his eyes (or rather eye. He’d have to get used to calling it that).

But more than anything he hated the waiting.

Sitting in some dingy room for hours with only the ticking of the clock nearby and his own thoughts for company. And just _waiting_.

It was enough to drive a man insane.

He would have almost have said he’d have preferred to be interrogated by his commanding officers again. Almost.

Some would have said using the word _interrogation_ to describe what had occurred between him and his commanding officers to be a bit of an exaggeration.

Iverson knew it wasn’t.

They had wasted no time in vetting his pre-flight condition His health records, any previous drug issues, even his blood-alcohol level. Every tidbit of his history had been gone through with a fine comb with no result.

When they had finished with him they moved on to his co-pilot. The questions had been relentless.

Had he shown any signs of drug use or intoxication before the flight? Did he have a history of recreational drug use? Had he ever gone through any kind of therapy or medical treatment involving any hard narcotics?

Iverson was forced admit that, yes, his friend did drink recreationally but no more than any other soldier. He had tried to make it perfectly clear that his friend had never once in his life driven a car let alone fly a plane while drunk. It wasn’t even a matter of personal responsibility.

“It’d completely ruin the feel of the plane.” He’d said. “Ain’t no drug worth givin up that.”

Never once had Iverson ever doubted his friends sentiment. Especially when it came to flying.

Austin Kogane was arguably the greatest fighter pilot in the modern age. There were those who claimed that giving him such a title was a gross exaggeration of the man’s abilities. Incidentally every one of those naysayers weren’t pilots.

If there was anyone who took flying seriously it was Austin. Flying was the man’s whole life. He’d never risk losing it by flying a plane drunk. Let alone a _test_ flight.

This, combined with Austin’s role as Iverson’s wingman, had given him a sense of unwavering respect for the man.

As a result the incessant questioning into the intimate affairs of his most trusted friend ignited a fire of indignation in Iverson’s heart. He’d be the first to admit that Austin wasn’t exactly the image of the perfect soldier, but it was getting to the point that his superiors were starting to make _suggestions_. They would ask leading questions about Austin’s financial status, whether had had any intimate foreign friends, etc.

Suggesting his friend was a dunkard was one thing. Borderline accusing him of being a traitor to his country was another.

The worst of it was not knowing where Austin stood against the accusations. His medical check up had been taken to the higher ups before Iverson had gotten a chance to see it. This left him sitting in the hellscape of a waiting room, with no critical information, until he was allowed to visit Austin.

And it was driving him NUTS.

Iverson’s own condition was more or less stable. No internal damage or anything. Nothing a few months of leave couldn’t heal. It was his eye that was the issue. They couldn’t save his eye.

Iverson sighed.

That would be the end of his career in the air force. Ten years of commitment down the drain. Course it would have stopped at ten years and the rest of his life if Austin hadn’t dragged him from the wreckage before passing out.

Had to look on the bright side. At least he wasn’t dead.

“Mr. Iverson?” A nurse drew the ragged man’s attention. “Mr. Kogane will see you now.”

Standing, Iverson followed after the nurse. Doing everything in his power to NOT show how anxious he felt.

The fact was that he’d been released from the hospital first despite losing an eye. While Austin, spry healthy energetic Austin likes-to-exaggerate-his-accent-to-piss-people-off Kogane, had been in for twice as long.

It made Iverson uneasy.

The way the nurse opened the door for him and glanced inside as he entered only made Iverson MORE uneasy. Just the look in her eyes told him something was wrong. Once the door was closed he braced himself and looked at the bed.

Austin looked like shit. But not in the way that Iverson’s bandaged head and sour expression made _him_ look like shit. It was his eyes. He’d never seen another living person’s eyes look so dead before.

Even the smile Austin gave him seemed uncharacteristically lifeless.

“Ya made it. That’s a relief.” With a grunt, he sat up in the hospital bed. “I was afraid I’d killed ya.”

“LIke you even could.” Iverson dragged a chair over to the side of the bed and sat down, giving his friend’s physical state a once over.

Physically speaking, Austin looked alright.

There was still the signs of him having been busted up. Bandages in odd places, his arm in a sling, the wrap around his head. But beyond that, there was nothing of particular note.

On any other occasion the sight of his friend, all in one piece, would have given Iverson some relief. The issue was Austin’s _eyes_. Those glossed over dead ass eyes that just looked so… lost.

“The commander came to speak to me.”

Iverson stiffened and eyed his friend for any twinge, any blinking back of tears.

“He, uh, he told me...a-about your eye.”

“Oh.”

As much as he respected his commanding officer, Iverson wished the man could have had some damn tact. He’d been hoping to break that particular bit of news to Austin himself.

“I’m so sorry Iverson.”

Last name. Austin never used his last name.

“Don’t say that.” he warned desperately. “Don’t you dare say that. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

Austin snorted, “Of course I didn’t. Doesn’t make it _not_ my fault.” The haggard pilot pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re entire career is down the toilet and it’s **my** fault.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Iverson stressed the words. “It was an _accident_. Something went wrong. It was a test flight. There must have been a flaw in the design. Either with the readings, the engine, the god damn wings-”

“It wasn’t the plane Iverson.”

“Of course it was!” he slammed his fist on the arm of the chair. “There’s nothing else! Neither of us were drunk or on drugs. Neither of us had any reason to see the test flight fail. And BOTH of us know your the best damn pilot to ever come out of flight school in the last fifty years.”

“You boost me up too much.”

“Damn straight. But it’s true.”

“And yet,” Austin leaned back and closed his eyes in defeat. “It was my fault.”

Iverson sighed. “If this is about my eye-”

“It’s not. It’s about me.” He smiled ruefully. “I passed out in the cockpit Iverson. It came on suddenly and I just… I was out. I only woke up after the crash.”

“So it was the oxygen?” he asked somewhat relieved.

“No, it was me.” Austin looked away from him. “Look, I-I ain't got the kind of vocabulary to tell ya what the doctors told me. But something happened with my heart. Interrupted the blood flow to my head or somethin. And I passed out.”

Iverson sat stone cold. “A-Are you telling me you had a heart attack?”

Austin knitted his brow. “I… guess. Apparently my heart literally stopped for a few seconds.”

“But you-... I-I don’t-”

“They have some kinda overly long complicated name for it that I can’t pronounce. But to sum it up, I’ve developed some kinda heart defect. They dunno how it happened, but it happened.”

Leaning back in his chair, Iverson let out a long steady breath and let this information soak in.

“The commander’s already given me a leave of absence. But… the doctors say the condition is chronic. There ain't a cure. I’m… I’m probably gonna have to be discharged. From the air force. The military. Permanently.”

This was a travesty. No one knew that better than Iverson. To lost two high class pilots in a single day… It would be difficult for their squadron to recover from that. If they even could.

“Still,” Iverson wet his dry lips. “That’s… That’s hardly _your_ fault. You had no way of knowing you weren’t in peak physical condition. If you had you would have called it all off.”

Austin didn’t reply. Instead he occupied his time by biting his lower lip and staring intently at the foot of the bed.

An act that only set Iversons mind on edge

“You _would_ have called it off… right?”

Things were slowly beginning to click together.

“You didn’t know about your health issues… Right?!”

The ace pilot opened and closed his mouth shakily before finally bleating out, “I’m sorry.”

Austin watched as Iverson’s fingers gripped the arms of the chair. He averted his eyes again, not willing to look at his friends face.

“I-I didn’t… I never thought it was anything serious. J-just phantom pains in my chest. I thought it was a chest cold.”

He hazarded another glance at his friend in the chair. Iverson’s body was rigid, and he could see the vein pulsing on his neck.

“You didn’t… report that to the med bay?”

“I didn’t think it’d matter. I thought it was just a minor chest cold. Please Iverson. Ya gotta believe me when I say that’s all I thought it was.”

“But your medical check up…”

“I had it done before the symptoms developed. I-I knew that if I said something they’d take me off the test flight, and put someone else on. I-It was my chance to fly something no one else had flown before, I couldn’t pass it up!”

“So you lied?!”

“I didn’t lie I just-”

“It amounts to the same god damn thing Austin!” Iverson’s voice echoed through the room as he stood up with such violence that his chair knocked back over on to the floor. “You crashed a million dollar military grade test plane! You cost both of us our fucking careers! And you’re trying to tell me you caused all of that because you wanted to be the first kid in the candy store?!”

“All I can say is that I’m sorry! If I’d known it’d turn out this way, I’d never have-”

“But you did. And it has.” Iverson’s tone was cold as he turned away from the bed.

“I- Mitch, please.” He pleaded, hoping the use of his friends first name might quiet his anger somewhat. “I-I dunno how I’ll make it up to ya, but I will. I’ll do everything I can to-”

“You’ve done enough.”

Austin watched as Iverson marched across the room to the door.

“Mitch, hold on!”

“Iverson.” The icy correction was enough to make the former pilot wince. “It’s Iverson to you, _Kogane_.”

And with one final cold glance at the horrified face of his former wingman, Mitch Iverson slammed the door shut.

* * *

 

The funeral arrangements of the blades had never been outlandish. They couldn’t afford to be. Especially considering that most of the time there wasn’t even a body to have a funeral for.

They were very good at that. Not leaving bodies. Or if there _were_ bodies they mostly went unrecovered.

Kalthara couldn’t count the number of comrades she had lost where she had nothing to mourn over but a knife. Or various assorted pieces.

Growing up in the ten thousand year old organization had stunted her surprise at sudden death. There was a time when she did part with her comrades with some vague hope of seeing them again. But reality had constantly felt the need to remind her that death was a far reaching universal concept.

General consensus amongst the blades was that Kalthara had been reminded of the fragility of life one time too often. That was why even after the death of their leader (who had practically raised the galran woman and her brother) none of the veteran members were surprised to see her eyes dry. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t mourn, but rather that mourning had become such a regular part of her life that even when a death hit so close to home she couldn’t be bothered to make much of a scene.

Once the funeral was over, however…

“It is a foolish proposition. You’d have to be suicidal to say yes.”

Kolivan sighed.

He’d been trying to prepare for this. Trying being the key word.

There was really no way to fully prepare for an argument with his sister. She carried a rather difficult personality that included stubborn and opinionated amongst its arsenal. Both were now unsheathed.

“They have no right to do it. Holding a vote without telling you.” Kalthara added bitterly. “Or me.”

He sighed again. “You know just as well as I do that the lots are cast in secret. The voters are picked by either the former voters or the current leader. None of the candidates are told, and-”

“-And every one of them privately decide which of our order to paint a giant target on.” She finished bitterly. “It is a ridiculous system.”

Kolivan smiled ironically to himself. It hadn’t been that long ago that he had heard Kalthara praise the system. She had said that it was the simplest way to decide things. Afterall whoever deserved to be their next leader was usually quite obvious and the vote was merely a formal way of confirming what everyone already knew.

The key issue, of course, was not only his sister's lack of a diplomatic understanding but also that she had likely always imagined that the obvious candidate would be someone else’s brother.

He’d been surprised when it was announced that he had been the one chosen to lead the Blades. It was true that he and their former leader had been close. Both men had been members of the organization since birth. But where his sister had developed a disdain for their mission, Kolivan had seen a purpose. One that could be fulfilled if he properly built up on the work of the galra who had come before him.

As a result, though he found the idea of leading his brethren daunting, he saw the appointment as a great honor. The difficulty was making his sister see that.

Kolivan and Kalthara were something of a novelty to the Blade of Marmora. Not only was it rare for children to be born outside of the empire's grasp, but it was even rarer for them to be twins. And rarer than even that was for one of them to be female.

It was an experience only they knew of, and something they could only truly relate to with each other. Kolivan felt sure that that was the reason behind Kalthara’s displeasure.

She had lost their parents. She had lost many of their comrades. She had now lost the closest thing either of them had had to a father.

She didn’t want to lose a brother.

Kolivan understood this. He was likely the only one on the base who _could_ understand.

His sister had had the tragic misfortune of losing what few close friends she had made growing up in a very short amount of time. Each of them killed on individual missions, often times months before the blades could realize what had happened. That combined with the sheer amount of violence she had seen first hand…

Some of the young galra had taken to calling her an ice woman for her cold demeanor. Though the others tended to hush the younglings when these comments were made, no other real action was taken. It spoke volumes of the kind of reputation Kalthara had garnered. Kolivan was probably one of the few galra left on the main base who realized that his sister still had any feelings left.

Which made it harder to accept the leadership position.

“It is an honor to be appointed. It shows they have faith in my ability to-”

“You are NOT seriously thinking of accepting this proposal?!”

“As a matter of fact I was.”

“Are you suicidal or merely brain deficient?!”

“Neither. I was appointed. I have the right to refuse, but I have chosen to accept the offer.”

“Why?!”

Kolivan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He lost his temper.

“We are _leaderless_ , Kalthara.” his tone was much harsher than he intended. “I personally believe there are others more qualified for the position than I, but the fact remains that **I** was appointed. Not them. If I refuse now we will be without any kind of guidance for an unforeseen amount of time. In that time several of our men could be killed pointless because the torch of leadership was delayed by a day. I can not, and will not, put our comrades at risk simply because one stubborn girl raises a disagreement over something she knows nothing about!”

It was the wrong thing to say. Especially the last bit. The anger in his voice hadn’t helped matters.

Though his sister’s face remained impassive, seemingly unaffected by his words, her eyes betrayed her emotions. Though her voice still flowed out in a smooth, but now cold, stream.

“I see,” her eyes hardened on him. “I’m holding you back, is that it?”

“Sister,” it was too late for such intimate terms of endearment, but Kolivan had to try. “That is not what I-”

“No.” Kalthara cut him off with a voice a hard as steel. “You have made your point clear. You have been appointed and intend to accept the position for your own reasons. Continuing any argument at this point would be…”

She paused for just a moment before spitting out the word, “Insubordination.”

This wasn’t the way Kolivan had wanted this conversation to go. Of course he had known going in that the discussion would not go well. But he still wished it could have gone _better_.

Kalthara turned for the door.

“I shall inform the others of your acceptance. If you have any need of me afterwards then simply summon me and I will appear.”

He took her arm.

“Sister,” Kolivan repeated, using a tone he hadn’t used since they had both been younglings. It had always been how he showed Kalthara that he was getting personal. And though he could not see her face, he could tell by the way her ears lowered that she was listening. “I must continue the struggle that our forefathers started. I want to build on what my predecessor accomplished and bring an end to this oppressive empire. But I can not do it alone. I… We will need your support if we ever hope to bring peace to the galra and the universe.”

When she didn’t respond Kolivan released his grip.

“That… is all I wanted to say.”

“It is a nice sentiment.” Without turning around Kalthara continued through the door “But do not waste your time speaking of dreams and make believes things like _peace_ leader. You have better, more real, things to focus on now.”

With those final words, she left him alone.

* * *

 

Austin stared at his new home.

Some people would have said spending his military penchant on an old shack in the desert was a poor life choice.

Most of those people likely would have been right, but the disgraced former pilot could no longer care what other people thought of him. What little care he’d had, had been siphoned out of him bit by bit over the past few months.

Iverson hadn’t willingly addressed him since the incident, and wouldn’t even sit in the same room as him if he could help it.

His commander had been more than a little disappointed. He had practically disowned his former star pilot. Personally ripping his medals from his chest.

And the squadron? The second they’d learned the truth they’d cancelled their hospital visits. Giving Austin the distinct impression they didn’t want to ever see him again.

Not that he could blame any of them.

The air force hadn’t seen fit to make a spectacle out of the whole affair and had, instead, quietly done away with Austin with the light suggestion that he NOT cause the government any more trouble. They had then unceremoniously tossed him to the wind and closed the window, not bothering to see where he’d ended up.

He gazed at the small building with an inspective eye. It wasn’t anything special.

There were two floors, but only one room on each. No real modern plumbing to speak of, only a well and an outdoor shower in the back. A brick storage shed had been built next to the shack, and already contained a month's worth of supplies to prep Austin for his first month in the middle of nowhere

With a sigh, he took a seat on the small porch and stared out at the endless expanse of gray desert.

So this was it. The end of the line. Or the closest thing to the end of the line as Austin expected to get in the present.

The doctors who had looked at him hadn’t been of much help. The best way they had put it was that his condition was… unpredictable.

The defect, as it turned out, was chronic. There was no cure. And Austin’s heart was likely to kill him. There were meds he could take to control the condition, but otherwise he was essentially waiting around until his heart finally gave out on him.

That wasn’t how the doctors had described Austin’s ultimate fate. They had drolled on and on about experimental surgeries that _might_ permanently reverse his condition.

It didn’t sound like something he could afford. Or even something that had much point.

What was the difference between living a few years and living a few decades? It all seemed the same to Austin.

He’d lost the loyalty of his closest friend. The respect of his commander and comrades in arms.

And he’d lost his ability to fly. Austin didn’t know he could go on for long without being able to fly.

There only seemed to be one thing left that kept his heart from drifting into despair.

Sitting back on the porch, he watched as the clear blue sky of the desert drifted away and the cool dark blanket of night draped over the world.

And then the stars came out.

Austin stared bleary eyed at them. The only companions he seemed to have left in the world were the stars. He’d loved looking at them as a child. He’d even wanted to become an astronaut before discovering flying.

Despite the bleakness of his world, Austin smiled.

“And Iverson said that astronomy degree had been a waste of time.”

And he laughed.

He laughed.

And laughed.

Until the tears came.


	2. Chapter 2

Three years. Three years living alone in a shack in the desert could change a man. The odd thing was that Austin Kogane didn’t  _ feel  _ like a changed man.

Many of his habits had changed, certainly. They were bound to now that he knew his heart might try to kill him one day.

As a result, recreational drinking flew straight out the window. Not that it was a terrible loss. Once he didn’t have anyone to drink with, alcohol had lost its enticement.

He’d started hiking more. Not that he hadn’t hiked before now. But before hiking had been something they had done in field training. Now it was something that required special boots and a stick.

Astronomy, which had previously just been an odd hobby as well as an ill-advised diploma, had become Austin’s new career. Instead of spending his nights laughing around a card table with a bunch of greasy pilots, he now spent every night alone looking up at the sky with a telescope and making notes about star positions and what not.

It wasn’t a particularly fulfilling life. Not an exciting one either. It didn’t even have the decency to be boring.

But it was a life and it was his now.

Starting out things had been soul-crushingly lonely. It had to be. Austin figured that anybody who went through what he did would experience loneliness one way or another. And he had.

However, he’d somehow managed to carve a little life for himself out of the loneliness. Day by day, he began to enjoy the isolation. No one around to disturb him or his thoughts. Just him, the desert, and his work.

It wasn’t even like he never saw people. There was a nearby town he frequented to gain supplies, as well as a clinic where he got monthly check ups on his heart condition. None of the people there were his close friends, but it wasn’t like he was alone in the world.

Course a new chapter was starting in his world’s history. For the first time in forever the planet earth… was at peace.

Austin had never expected he’d see the day it’d happen. Hell, if he was being honest with himself he never thought it  _ would  _ happen. Apparently, the rest of the world hadn’t either.

The shaky international truce had surprised everyone. In fact, most people didn’t even think it was real at first. But then months went by and no one did anything.

Oh, there were a few minor incidents by independent organizations, but all investigations proved that all incidents were not connected to any nation or world power.

It was sort of like every person on earth was sitting at the same dinner table and doing their absolute best to not make eye contact with each other.

The human race had, rather accidentally, stumbled across world peace. So, of course, something had to be done before somebody somewhere screwed it all up.

So the world leaders had a meeting. And then another meeting. And another.

Months of many many meetings later, they had come up with the idea of the Galaxy Garrison. (Likely an idea somebody had shouted out at a meeting, got written down on a post-it note, and then dug out when no other better ideas had been suggested). As something to occupy the world’s time and interest so no one went off and started another war.

And much to the world at large’s shock…

...it was successful.

At least this was how Austin preferred to think of things. He was sure the actual turn of events had been far more dramatic and filled with a lot of fat old graying men in suits yelling at each other in varying languages while sweating a lot but the result was still fundamentally the same.

The military was out of a job.

Austin couldn’t help but muse at that. It seemed rather hilarious to him that not a year or two after his dismissal from the air force that his squadron had been disbanded. It’s members tossed to the winds.

There still remained smaller versions of the military personnel who were tasked with a lot of public service duties like guarding diplomats, running supplies, and doing the usual grunt work.

But as far as the public could tell the militarized world was at an end.

Austin didn’t buy it for a minute.

They weren’t public anymore, the names had changed, and the general outlook of the world was different. But humans were still fundamentally the same. Which meant that people were just as nasty as ever.

The people who had been soldiers were still soldiers deep down in their souls. Just because the system had changed a little and their mission had gone from “blow these guys up” to “blow these  _ asteroids  _ up” meant diddly squat.

Countries still competed like they always had. But now their soldiers were astronauts and engineers, and all the real nitty gritty stuff went on in the shadows.

Still, Austin had to admit it was an improvement. Better than blowing each other up at least.

Sighing he lay on his porch, waiting for the daylight to dim out just enough to begin seeing the first stars. As corny as it was, the stars had been his only real companions for these past three years. The only things he could count on to be there.

It really was pathetic when balls of burning gas a bajillion miles out into space were your only friends, but Austin figured it was better than nothing at all.

He closed his eyes and took in the evening desert air, the warm heat of the day, and the revving car engine in the distance.

Wait.

That wasn’t right.

Austin sat up and stared at his own mud-covered pickup truck. It wasn’t his go-to option for transportation, but his accursed heart condition kept him from getting a motorbike. Besides the pickup was useful when it came to carrying his telescope across several miles into the desert to observe the stars.

But right now the truck sat silently next to his house. And yet the sound of an engine was getting louder. Turning his head and narrowing his eyes, Austin could just barely see a cloud of dust being kicked up in the distance.

He had a visitor. Which was odd because he  _ never  _ got visitors.

Glancing down at a potted cactus with a bright pink (and very guilty looking) flower sitting beside his steps, Austin bit his lip and looked back at the rapidly approaching car. In what could only be called an exaggeratingly casual manner he picked up the plant, wandered over to his truck, and tucked it under the tarp over the trunk. 

Couldn’t be too careful.

The vehicle was now close enough for Austin to identify it as a military grade jeep. Which surprised him still further. People had avoided him as ‘that weirdo in the desert’ for years to the point that he had actually started to grow accustomed to the odd stares he’d get in the town.

But the military hadn’t had anything to do with him since they’d given him a boot.

So what the hell was one of their jeeps doing out here?!

He took a position on his porch as the jeep pulled up and parked just a few yards from his house. He leaned against the porch, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

The jeeps door swung open. A boot stuck out. A figure appeared.

Austin stared at the man standing there in the full military issued garb of the galaxy garrison and let his jaw drop.

“Iverson?!”

“Kogane.”

* * *

 

Kalthara knew she had no grounds to protest Kolivan’s appointment to be leader anymore. She hadn’t had any ground, to begin with, but she somehow had even less grounds now.

The blades were doing better now than they had in literal decapheebs. Kolivan had a good mix of ambition and caution that helped to curb the rate with which their fellow galra were falling in battle. This had had a good effect on overall morale and had won him the approval of the lower ranks more or less overnight.

Others were less easy to convince.

While they treated him with the same respect they had their previous leader, most of the higher ranking blades Kolivan at arm's length. Watching him for any slip-up, any sign of weakness or indecision.

But that was where Kolivan’s other little virtue came into play.

He was patient.

Kolivan was a man who wouldn’t even twitch as every one of his self-appointed “betters” questioned his authority at every turn. Never letting an opportunity pass to test him.

He passed every time with flying colors.

Kalthara HATED it.

It wasn't that she didn’t acknowledge her brother’s skills or have any respect for him. Hell, every time one of the older galra treated him like a child she wanted to personally take the old crones out with her blade. The only thing stopping her from doing so was the knowledge that Kolivan might relocate her to a distant outpost as punishment.

But she was slowly beginning to lose reasons for why Kolivan should step down from his position. No one would support her even if she could start up an argument. The only one’s who might agree also wanted to take her brother’s place and Kalthara would sooner slice off both her ears before throwing her lot in with them.

Besides, she would never betray her brother. She had no issues with her brother being leader. She just didn’t like the leader  _ being her brother _ .

It wasn’t just that the role would eventually get him killed. (Though it was the major driving force). It was also the sheer amount of attention she got due to her relation to him.

Kalthara was meeting members of the blades she hadn’t seen since she was a child as well as one’s she had never seen before. And she didn’t like how they looked at her.

Every time she had been introduced to someone outside of the inner circle they had been respectful and polite. They had also stared. The stares and the looks in their eyes made her ears itch. 

Kalthara wasn’t used to getting undue attention from strangers. Especially strangers she wasn’t allowed to just brush off. 

The older ones felt like they were analyzing her. Summing her up in the same way they might sum up an aircraft. They weren’t quite as annoying as the younger ones though.

The younger ones displayed an odd habit of trying to consistently draw her attention. For most of the meetings they never left her side. Constantly yammering on and on about whatever thought happened to limp across their minds.

But she knew what they were really up to.

Trying to earn favor with her brother no doubt. The sneaky bastards. Well, she certainly didn’t fall for it. No one was pulling the blanket over her eyes. Kalthara may have disliked the idea of her brother being the leader of the blades, but she wasn’t about to allow that fact to distract her from her duties to the group.

Kolivan was the only real family she had left. There had been others before but they were all dead. Lost to the ceaseless never-ending battle her ancestors had started. 

Her brother seemed to have some idea that peace was an attainable concept. But Kalthara knew better. She had not left the many records their organization had preserved unread. While their contents had somehow bolstered her brother to strive towards the blades original mission, the one’s she had read had detracted her dedication.

It seemed that every time the universe, or even a small part of it, attained what could graciously be called “peace” something always happened to bring it to an end. All the blood and tears that were shed in order to attain whatever counted as freedom to those people always ended up going to waste when another war started up just a short time later.

It annoyed her to hear her brother droll on and on about making their comrades sacrifices worthwhile when she knew from history that even if they somehow managed to bring an end to the war another one would just come and wipe away all their progress.

Her whole life and being were dedicated to fighting a battle that couldn’t be won. It frustrated her to know that there were no other options available to her. In the universe that existed now, you were either a member of the empire or you existed on the fringe. Fighting every day to stay alive.

There was nowhere the war didn’t reach. Nowhere left untouched by the ceaseless battles. No life went unaffected.

It was honestly a miserable existence, but it was the only one they had. The only thing Kalthara could do with her life was to fight to keep her and as many of the people, she cared about alive for as long as possible. It had proven time and time again to be a futile battle, but it was better than just resigning herself to whatever fate had been laid out for her.

That was probably why she did what she did.

Calling it a regular patrol mission would have been stretching a point. Regular patrol missions didn’t tend to explore long ago abandoned colonies on dead planets.

“This is a waste of time, brother.” Kalthara sighed as she kicked a piece of debris to the side. “These old colonies have been abandoned since before the empire was established.”

Kolivan ignored her as he pushed past some debris and inspected what seemed to be and ancient control panel. “Before their destruction, the alteans were a civilization that rivaled the galra in terms of technology. Some of that machinery was impossible to replicate using galran technology.”

“Yes. Like the giant warrior made up of lions.” She replied sarcastically. “You can not actually believe those old fairy tales?”

“Those old fairy tales also claimed that the alteans had technology that allowed them to distort space-time in order to travel across whole galaxies in a matter of hours. If we could use that technology it would allow us to have an upper hand in this war.”

Kalthara sighed. It was hard to argue with him when he took that track of thinking.

“The only people who have been able to come close to that technology were the druids. Even then, the reach is not quite as vast as the alteans were said to be.”

“Give them a few more years.” She argued pessimistically. “And I bet they will surpass the so-called ancients.”

Kolivan tried a door to an abandoned building. 

“Sealed.” He grunted. 

Leaning down he inspected an access pad.

“Brother, we have been here for almost four vargas! There is nothing here of value!”

“I will not leave until I have checked this last structure.”

“So once we get the door open, and seen that there is nothing inside we can return to the base?”

“Yes yes, but first I will need to hack this keypad-”

Kalthara’s ceremonial blade stabbed through the crack in the door. Using it as leverage she applied all her strength and pried it open.

“Well, that is certainly  _ one  _ method.”

“Yes yes, you have made your grievance known brother.” She stepped through the doorway as she spoke. “Now let us get this chore out of the way so we can go back to the-”

She stopped suddenly and stared into the room.

Kolivan’s ears twitched in worry. “Sister? What is it?”

He peered into the darkness.

“Oh.” His ears perked up, his eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face.

“Yes  _ oh _ .” Kalthara sighed. “Oh quiznak.”

It was a machine.

That was all either of them could really say about it. It was a large cylindrical device which Kalthara had to assume was hollow due to the reverberating echoes that admitted from within when she knocked on it. She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes in suspicion as she inspected the surface.

“Extraordinary.” Kolivan breathed as he ran his hand across the surface. “We must analyze this back at-”

“We are not taking this back to the base.” Kalthara cut in before realizing she had overstepped her bounds. “I mean, we  _ should not  _ take this back with us.”

“This was the whole reason I came out here Kalthara. To find altean technology. Now I have.”

“Certainly, but I had assumed you meant something small and harmless. But this?” she gestured to the hunk of metal. “It could be a bomb just waiting to go off! Besides, it is too large to move. This is the size of both our pods together! We would need to tow it with BOTH our ships just to get it off the colony! I don’t see-”

Kalthara caught the glint in her brother’s eye.

_ Oh quiznak _ , she thought.  _ I’ve given him an idea. _

As it turned out, the device proved to be much lighter than Kalthara assumed given its size. Only her brother’s ship was required to tow the machine. Kolivan seemed more than willing to comply.

“If you wish to drag that trash heap across the galaxy, go right on ahead. I will not be held responsible when something happens to you.”

Kolivan grunted. “I do not know why you continue to accompany me on these excursion if all you do is argue.”

“If I did not go with you, you would have gone alone, correct?”

He didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.”

Kalthara activated her own pod, only waiting for Kolivan to do the same before lifting off.

Honestly, her brother’s ambition would be his downfall. All she could do until then was keep him alive for as long as possible. Still, perhaps she had been too harsh.

Her brother genuinely believed that this long dead civilizations leftovers could change the tide of the war and the lives of everyone in the universe.

But that was ridiculous.

Whose life could such a clumsy rusted over trash heap possibly change?

* * *

 

Iverson really hadn’t changed much in three years. Though Austin was convinced this was because he had a permanent scowl chiseled onto his stone-like face. The expression made him look like an old man even though he likely wasn’t older than twenty-eight.

Exactly like he’d been in the air force.

Except for the scar. The scar was new.

Austin tried not to look at it.

“So, uh, h-how’ve you been?”

Iverson didn’t respond. He hadn’t even touched the water Austin had given him. Not a good sign.

“I’ve been alright.” Austin carried the one person conversation along clumsily. “I’m an astrologer now. Been observin. Out here. By myself. In the middle of nowhere. Like Courage, eh? Eheheh.”

His awkward laugh trailed off as Mitch continued to scowl at the desert.

God, why was this so hard? And why was Iverson even  _ here _ ? All he’d said was “we need to talk” before taking up residency on Austin’s porch and starting up a staring contest with the scenery. And though grating on his nerves, Austin couldn’t seem to get angry.

They hadn’t seen or heard from one another since that day in the hospital and Austin was honestly curious as to how his old friend was doing.

So he asked.

“I see yer wearin a garrison uniform. One of the personnel there?” Going out on a limb he hazarded, “Mitch?”

A single cold eye turned to him.

“Iverson.” He growled. “ _ Commander _ Iverson. And you can  _ stop  _ acting buddy-buddy  _ Kogane _ . I’m here on business.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Austin muttered, but quickly added as he caught the commanders glare. “So what kind of business are we talking here? Corporate? Private? Serious?”

Iverson scowled.

“ **Business** business.” Then he muttered. “I forgot how annoying you are.”

Austin tried not to appear visibly hurt.

“Alright then, get down to it then. What are ya doin here?”

Iverson pressed his lips together and twitched before saying, “Before I start, just know that I had to be explicitly ordered to come out here. I don’t agree with my superiors decision. The long and short of it is, _ I don’t want to be here. _ ”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

The commander ignored the comment.

“As you have likely already heard, the galaxy garrison has finished construction of their newest facility.”

“News to me.” Austin shrugged nonchalantly Perhaps drawing too much satisfaction from the look of irritation on Iverson’s face.

“It is literally miles from the nearest town. EVERYONE is talking about it. How have you not  _ heard _ ?!”

Austin gestured at the desert.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of gossipy neighbors MI- uh,  _ Iverson _ .”

“ _ Commander _ .”

“Whatever, so you guys have a new facility? Don’t see what that’s got to do with me.”

“It’s not just any facility. It’s the newest international installment in a world wide collective effort to facilitate and train the next generation of elite astro explorers in preparation for the globally agreed upon mission to push humanities influence into the cosmos and beyond.”

It sounded exactly like a pre=written ad campaign. Which it likely was. And given that Iverson was a commander now, chances were he’d memorized the whole thing for just that purpose. 

Now would probably be the expected time when all the young candidates would be expected to begin salivating at the mouth while imagining themselves doing the moonwalk on an asteroid.

Austin found this idea reprehensible.

They should be doing the robot.

“That’s an overly long way of spaying Space School.”

“It’s NOT a  _ Space School _ it’s an elite training facility!”

“Are they learning to be astronauts, engineers, pilots, and astrologers?”

“Of course they are!”

“Are they being graded?”

“They are going to be ranked through-”

“Ranks, grades, same thing. It’s a space school.”

“It’s NOT! It’s a-”

“Space School.”

“GOD DAMMIT AUSTIN!”

“Ha!” he grinned ear to ear. “You called me by my first name!”

Iverson was flushed with anger and embarrassment. “God I hate you.”

“Sure, whatever Mitch. But you still haven’t answered my question.” Austin was suddenly serious. “What’s it got to do with me?”

Iverson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He hated this.

He hated the dry air and the desert heat. 

He hated the poorly thought out decisions that had brought him here.

He hated the dilapidated old porch he wa siting on.

But most of all he hated that Austin could still get his goose the same way he always had. He hated the rosy colored reminiscences that this silly conversation was bring to the surface.

Iverson hated it all.

But not Austin. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t hate Austin. 

He thought that that would have been easy. Afterall, old friend though he was, he had ended Iverson’s flying career. He’d cost him his perfect record. Taken his eye.

But he couldn’t truly hate him.

And he hated that most of all.

“The garrison want to fill some of the facility position with highly decorated and influential individuals.” Iverson explained. “They’ve already appointed Samuel Holt as a central member of the science division.”

Austin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yeah, I figured you’d know who he was given your hobby.”

Scowling, Austin retorted. “It’s my  _ career  _ now. Not a hobby.”

But once the momentary irritation evaporated his brow creased in serious thought.

Samuel Holt was a highly respected member of the astrological community. His work on the Mars space colony had revolutionized the idea of life on other planets. He had also been an ardent supporter for the Galaxy Garrison when it had first been proposed on the world stage.

Throwing someone like him into the project really showed just how serious the planners behind this project were. They were collecting the brightest minds from all over the world to take part in the program. Hell, Iverson’s presence there even showed they valued the skills the former pilots; flight ready or otherwise.

This last thought made Austin’s brow crease further.

“Mitch-”

“Iverson.”

Austin growled in frustration but continued on. 

“Look… if you’re trying to figure out where the other members of our squadron went after they shut down the air force. I have no idea. None of them have talked to me since-”

“I know. That’s not why I’m here.” Pulling off his beret, he looked Austin in the eye and asked. 

“Austin Kogane. On behalf of the Galaxy Garrison, I have been tasked to officially invite you to join our organization.”


	3. Chapter 3

Austin couldn’t quite form words as multiple responses flew through his mind. Eventually, he managed a somewhat strained.

“Really?” It wasn’t a hopeful response as much as a shocked and somewhat confused one.

Iverson grunted. “That’s what I said.”

“I-I mean,” he struggled to properly put his feelings into words. “They know why I got kicked out of the air force… right?”

“Of course they do. I reminded them personally.”

“So they MUST know I can’t fly right?”

“They aren’t asking you fly anything Austin.”

That gave him pause to think. “Then… what do they want me for?”

“Well the  _ official  _ reason is your experience and expertise in piloting many different types of aircraft, the fact that your flying record still stands, as well as your apparent proficiency in reading star maps and your general knowledge of astronomy.” Iverson listed off the accomplishments in a voice of mock awe. “But the REAL reason is the notoriety.”

“I don’t-”

“Oh YES. You accomplished a lot in your flying career. Nevermind that you threw it all out the window and destroyed two fucking lives,  _ including  _ your own. On paper, you’re still the air forces golden boy and that’s all my superiors care about. All the young space explorers will be clamoring to be in the same breathing space as Austin Kogane, the world’s biggest fuck up.”

The bulging vein on Iverson’s neck, the reddened face, and the beads of sweat that dripped from his brow as he spoke gave Austin a reason to pause and reflect on how he would respond. This visit was dragging up sore memories, and if he wasn’t careful, the former ace pilot just might end up flat on his back with his former best friends hands around his throat.

And so Austin retreated to what he thought was a relatively safe subject.

“So the uh, the job? What kind of a position is it? Janitorial staff?”

Iverson shifted a dangerous eye towards Austin.

“J-Just a joke… y’know the mysterious wise old janitor guy. Kind of a staple in some old movies and tv shows.” When this failed to garner a positive response he moved on. “I, uh, I just think I need a better idea of what they want me for. Sides, I don’t think either of us are really enjoying this little get together so let’s just get it over with yeah?”

Austin gave a hopeful smile.

Iverson shifted his glare back onto the landscape.

“They’re modeling many of the spacecraft to be used in future explorations off of the basic setup of aircraft and would like people with a lot of experience in that area around to teach the cadets how to properly handle the interface.” The commander’s eyes twinkled as he saw the struggling look of comprehension cross Austin’s brow. “Or to put it into words  _ you  _ can understand, they want you to be a flight instructor. Under me, of course.”

“Wait wait wait, y’all want me to be a teacher?” He asked somewhat horrified.

“Essentially.”

“But like… it’s all scientists and such right?”

Iverson shrugged. “Not necessarily. The program is meant to indoctrinate potential pilots and engineers at a young age. Find the talent while it’s fresh.”

“Like teenagers?”

The commander raised an eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Austin didn’t respond.

He sighed. “They’re just kids. Not monsters from the darkest abyss. Jesus, what is with everyone and the teenager's thing? You’d think I’d told you we were training babies or something.”

“Well, it’s not like I have any experience with kids.”

“Neither do I. But ya don’t see me quaking in my boots.” 

“Yeah, you also don’t have any kids.” Austin paused before asking. “Do you?”

Iverson tried and failed to suppress a smirk. “Do I  _ look  _ like a castrated steer?”

“C’mon gimme a break here. We haven’t seen each other in three years. The least I should be allowed to do is ask about the love life of the guy who used to be the most desired bachelor on base.”

“Says the man who flirts with every pretty girl he comes across. Including that little lady at the gas station.”

“Hey, it’s all in good fun! Cassandra knows it’s-” He paused as the flow of conversation caught up with him. “-not… not serious.”

“Hmph, oh I’m sure  _ you  _ think that.”

Austin stared at Iverson, something quietly working out behind his eyes. But the unsuspecting commander just carried on his train of thought.

“Honestly y’know, it bugs the hell out of me when I remember how you flirted with all those girls. Sure, MOST of them didn’t take you seriously, but a few did. You were a real heartless shit back in the day Austin, not gonna lie.” Bumping the stiff man with his elbow Iverson added. “Even when you weren’t flirting the girls were all over you. I dunno if it was the flying, but they treated you like one of those adventure movie stars when you weren’t around.”

Narrowing his eyes, Austin asked, “How do you know?”

“Because I was there.” He sighed. “Whenever you walked out of the room the gals would sigh and blink dreamily. Could never figure out what it was they saw in you.”

“That’s not what I meant Iverson.” 

The sudden stiff and cold tone drew the commander's attention. Prompting him to turn and look into the now narrowed and suspicious gray eyes of Austin.

“How did you know about Cassandra?”

Iverson’s face froze and he averted his eyes. “I… I mean… y-you mentioned-”

“I did NOT mention her!” Austin’s voice shifted from cold to hot in a moment. “And don’t try to say you stopped in and she mentioned me. That girl's worked at that gas station ever since I moved out here and never once has she ever gossiped about other customers. Unless of course she were  _ asked _ .”

The commander's face hardened and returned to the stone it had been when he’d first arrived. 

“Well, what of it? Am I not supposed to ask about potential candidates for open positions?”

“No, but you ARE supposed to talk to them first!” Austin stood up and glared down at him. “Just-What the HELL Iverson?! We’ve known each other for years, but yer acting like I’m a complete nobody to you!”

Iverson stood as well and returned Austin’s glare with triple the force.

“Because officially you ARE nothing to me,  _ Kogane _ . As a commanding officer, I have the right to vet potential candidates as I see fit! To make sure there are no… discrepancies.”

“Right, discrepancies. I’m sure that’s what you tell your superiors. But you can’t fool me.” He jabbed his finger into the commander's chest. “I know you, Iverson. You’ve got some crazy idea in your head, and I wanna know what it is.”

Iverson glanced down at the finger, and then back at Austin’s face,

It all happened in a matter of moments.

One minute Austin was standing upright. But the next…

“AH AH AH,” He squealed like a schoolyard boy as Iverson grabbed and twisted his arm around behind his back and pulled hard on the other. “DAMMIT IVERSON.”

The commander sneered at the sight. “Yer outta practice Kogane. But then again, you never were great at close quarters combat. Always skipping out on practice to go on joyrides.”

He released his grip and shoved Austin  _ hard.  _ Causing him to stumble, nursing his sore shoulder painfully as he glared back at his old friend. “Jerk.”

“Fine. I’ll stop beating around the bush then. I asked around about you because I heard some disturbing rumors.” 

“Rumors?”

“Yes, rumors.” Iverson leaned towards Austin and asked. “How long have you been taking drugs?”

* * *

 

“We are lost.”

Kalthara growled at the comment. “We are NOT lost. We are merely displaced.”

“Same thing really.”

She didn’t reply, thinking it better to focus on her navigation readings rather than have a debate over semantics with her brother.

Kalthara supposed that getting lost had been somewhat predictable. Considering how hard just finding the colony had been, it was surprising they even knew what sector of the solar system they were in, let alone how to get back to the outpost.

Having some huge hunk of junk weighing them down didn’t help matters.

Navigation had never been her strong suit. She could get by alright if it was a simple matter of flying from point A to point B. But the moment she was expected to determine her location based on nothing but relative star placement Kalthara was stuck.

That was likely how they’d gotten lost in the first place. With Kolivan towing the altean artifact, that left Kalthara to navigate their way back to the base. A position she had been all too confident about at first. Up until they passed the same moon for the third time in a row.

Things were starting to look grim.

If they didn’t get back on track soon, they risked attracting the worst kind of attention. This part of the system was notorious for being inhabited by weblums, asteroid fields, and-

A sudden force rocked the ship, tossing Kalthara to the side. Only the magnetic implants in her suit kept her from slamming against the side of the cockpit. Glaring down at the console two dots blinked back at the marmoran as they approached fast from the starboard side.

-pirate. Of course, it was pirates. Just a natural next step in this infuriating quiznaking day.

“Sister.” Kolivan’s voice crackled over the comm gravely.“We have company.” 

“Thank you for informing me. That was not immediately apparent.”

Kalthara hated pirates. Not quite as much as she hated her brother being leader, but it was damn close.

Pirates were the worse kind of parasite. They rode around the universe leeching off of the resources of others. The empire leeched off of other planets as well, but at least those resources went to expanding their power. Pirates just existed with no other purpose but to continue existing.

It wasn’t a struggle for survival. 

They frequently made use of the weapons they stole to be more powerful than most other lifeforms. They had no dedication to honor, duty, or family. They weren’t even ambitious. 

Just an amalgamation of bloodthirst and greed who made an already difficult existence even more difficult for everyone else.

Needless to say, Kalthara didn’t hesitate to fire back.

Sadly her aim was about as good as her navigation skills as the laser shot missed the pirate’s wings by several meters.

Thankfully her piloting skills were slightly better than her aim, otherwise, she wouldn’t have managed to dodge the onslaught of return fire by mere inches.

This was bad.

Between the two of them, Kolivan was the better fighter pilot. If they had been on the ground, or in close personal quarters things would have been different. No one could beat Kalthara in close quarters combat. But that skill set was useless where she was now.

“Pull back Kalthara!” Kolivan’s voice crackled over the comm as another laser blast passed by the cockpit window.

Kalthara bit her tongue and hesitated.

“Sister!” Her brother’s voice was shrill.

“If we retreat now we’ll expose our flank!”

“And if we stay, we risk being completely destroyed. Retreat Kalthara.” He then added. “That is an order.”

Clenching her teeth, Kalthara turned her ship and followed after her leader doing her absolute best to ignore their quickly advancing pursuers.

“How do you plan to escape?” she asked, doing her best to hide her resentment at being ordered around like some grunt. “If we don’t lose them they will simply follow us back to the base.”

“The Arkaryan Belt is nearby. If we fly through it we should lose them.”

“Whilst being smashed by asteroids.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Kalthara didn’t reply and instead focused on not getting hit by the pursuing pirates as she followed after her brother across open space and into the Arkaryan Belt.

The asteroid belt had claimed many a life of hapless space explorers. Or idiots as Kalthara liked to call them. Though seeing how she was now riding into the asteroid field herself she was hesitant to keep up that association of words.

As predicted, the pirates didn’t follow them.

Parasites though they were, they had at least the passable shadow of a preservation instinct.

And long distance weapons.

It all seemed to happen in a blur.

A streak of blue shooting through space.

Kolivan’s rear getting hit.

Another, this time finishing shot, honing in.

Kalthara’s hands turned the controls on their own. Diverting her course.

The vessel rocked. Her ship collided with something metallic.

And then the whole of space turned blue.

* * *

 

Iverson’s stare was like that of medusa. Except instead of turning to stone should they make eye contact, Austin was sure he’d be dead if he even so much averted his gaze. One glance at his truck and it would all be over.

It was a battle of wills at this point.

“Ya don’t seriously believe that garbage do ya?” He asked with a half-joking wave of the hand. “I mean is the desert really the BEST place to grow a marijuana patch?”

The cold one-eyed gaze didn’t waver from Austin’s face.

“I never said anything about marijuana.”

He shrugged. “I assumed.”

“Don’t play games with me, Kogane.” Iverson’s tone had now reached a depth so low he could mine dinosaurs. “The townspeople have seen you on your little drug trips.”

Austin prayed that the sweat that dripped from his brow could be passed off as part of the heat.

He had doubts to the statement's truthfulness. He’d never chewed in or around the town and deliberately hid his keys to keep himself from wandering around in his psychedelic stupor.

However… there was always the chance that some random hiker could have spied him sitting in the back of his truck and-

“Ya want me to piss in a cup right now I will.” Breaking eye contact, Austin averted his gaze to the base of his porch. To the small spot next to the steps. Where a round indentation in the dirt stared traitorously back at him. “If it’ll convince ya not to listen to bored townsfolk.”

Glancing back at him, Austin was horrified to find Iverson’s eye’s drifting into the complete opposite direction. Right at his truck.

His mouth went dry.

“Besides,” he couldn’t hide the slight shake in his voice. “I told you a long time ago that I don’t take that shit.”

“Yes. You did. I remember. You said it would ‘ruin the feel of the plane’.”

“There ya see?”

Iverson gave Austin a cold stare before wandering over to his truck.

“There’s a problem with that argument though.”

Following after him, Austin couldn't help but ask desperately. “Yeah? And what’d that be?”

Kicking the rusted metal of the wheel, Iverson replied. “You don’t fly planes anymore.”

Austin’s heart leaped into his throat as the commander ripped the tarp off the back of the truck and peered inside. He stared at the back and scanned the contents.

A minute passed.

And another.

Austin risked scooting over beside the hardened soldier and glancing at his expression.

It was blank before morphing into something like embarrassment.

“Uh… very… nice equipment.” he struggled as he stared at the telescope.

Austin allowed his reply to sink in before it clicked. He risked only a slight glance at the potted cactus that sat in the corner of the truck unnoticed before replying with a newfound confidence.

“Thanks. I like to get the best, most versatile field equipment available. Can’t track the stars with a regular old pair of binoculars.” The incoming coolness of the night air and the swiftly dimming sky gave Austin his out. “Speaking of which, I have a very important star rotation to observe tonight, so are we done here?”

Iverson glared at Austin before giving a forced. “You’re free to go.”

“Geez, ya make it sound like I’m in custody.”

“If you aren’t careful, you will be.” As an afterthought, the commander added. “And your decision? As to the position?”

Austin stopped on his way to the driver's side seat. He paused for a moment before giving a very noncommittal, “I’ll think about it.”

Climbing behind the wheel, he revved the clunky old engine and drove off. Catching only the slightest of glances at his former friend in the rear-view window before driving into the night.

Iverson waited until after the truck disappeared into the distance to throw his hat to the ground and kick at the dirt in frustration.

He’d been so sure. So confident of his theory. Hell, he was still confident. But his actions had made him look like some kind of idiot. A part of him was happy none of his co-workers had been there to see the disgraceful display, while another part of him found it bad enough that Austin of all people had seen it.

Partially because while he hated being wrong, he also didn’t want to be right.

The evidence wasn’t steep per say but it was still fairly dire. Austin HAD been seen in what could only be described in some form of drug high by multiple individuals on a camping trip. They even had recorded video evidence.

It had taken Iverson using his ever persuasive army man voice to  _ kindly  _ suggest that the group NOT post the feed on the internet and make it viral. They had consented most peacefully after that.

And the townspeople were rather suspicious of him. There wasn’t any real malice or hate to the way they talked about the former fighter pilot, but the overall tone was similar to the way people would talk about a “highly suspicious character”.

Austin didn't go out of his way to socialize much with the other people in the area. A fact that had surprised Iverson when he’d first heard it. The Austin Kogane he had known in the air force was a social butterfly. The kind of guy who could sit down at any random table in a restaurant and instantly strike up a friendly conversation with the other clientele.

But now? Now Austin had garnered a reputation as a shut-in. He smiled, he complimented the young ladies, wasn’t too impolite, and only showed up in town once a month to pick up supplies.

Everyone KNEW he lived out here, but no one visited him. His paper mail was kept in a lockbox at the post office. It was that bad.

HIs old friend had become the man every father warned their daughters about. The guy parents instructed their children to avoid. A man little old ladies would walk through heavy traffic just to avoid.

Not a criminal, but a social outcast.

It was a disturbing change that shook Iverson to the core.

The only person who didn’t seem to hold any kind of negative opinion of Austin was his doctor who thought he was a good-humored and regularly attentive patient. A patient the doctor didn’t have to worry about being strict with. A patient he could see himself going out and having a quick beer with.

A patient the doctor was quite confident would randomly drop dead any year now.

The heart defect hadn’t worsened. But it hadn’t gotten any better.

As things stood for Austin now things were stable. If his health kept up that way he could continue living the majority of his adult life normally. And if he accepted the job at the garrison a whole new avenue could open up for him.

The health insurance the facility provided was lucrative, the pay was more than enough to support oneself with, and the work was interesting. Iverson felt sure Austin would very much enjoy a life there.

But all of that would go down the drain if he was found to be doing drugs.

The garrison was an open facility but not a particularly forgiving one. Things like hard drug use were career killers, and a criminal record involving violent crimes or narcotics of any kind often times led to whole resumes being tossed into the trash.

Iverson was all too aware that the job at the garrison had the potential to completely turn around Austin’s life. Maybe even save it. Yet it could all be lost because the idiot decided to play around with psychedelic leaves or something.

Retrieving his beret, he dusted off the dirt before placing it back onto his head in what was his most formal soldierly manner. Even if it had been a moment of anger he couldn’t truly excuse defacing his uniform in such a way. Austin would have called the display stingy, but recalling what his private quarters typically looked like Iverson decided that his former best friends hypothetical opinion was inconsequential.

With that thought, the commander glanced at the decrepit old shack Austin called a home. It was a sorry looking structure. Something straight out of a B-list horror flick that got knocked down less than a week after filming.

Iverson hesitated for only a moment before stepping onto the creaky porch and testing the handle. The door clicked open.

The commander froze, having reached a moment that required significant contemplation. When he’d grabbed the knob he was expecting to find it locked, and for his curiosity to be halted in its tracks. Not for some new temptation to stare right at him.

What the hell was Austin doing?!

Leaving his door unlocked for any passing robber. Far from town. In the middle of the desert.

Looking guiltily back at the desert, Iverson took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

For years he and Austin had lived together as roommates. It had always seemed simpler to share a place with someone you knew rather than leave your personal affairs alone for months at a time.

Back then Austin had been the epitome of the sloven roommate. Clothes on the furniture, dishes in the sink, and a policy of passing out on the couch piss drunk. He’d been a young Iverson’s worst nightmare.

And yet… when he’d met Austin it felt as though the universe was issuing Iverson a personal challenge. There before him was the most unorganized, untidy, annoyingly undisciplined young soldier imaginable. Who also happened to be ten times the pilot he could ever hope to be. Worse, they were the same rank.

Austin’s existence offended everything Iverson had accepted to be true. 

Undisciplined, disorganized, unserious, men and women were not meant to be great. Natural skill was supposed to fall to the wayside when faced with the unbridled grit of hard work. Men like Austin Kogane were there to take up space until the really serious people stepped up to the plate.

That was likely why he’d put up with him for so long in the beginning. There had been a part of his young self who thought that the natural order would assert itself and he’d be rid of his roommate forever.

But he’d failed to account for two things. 

That sheer passion could supplement hard work.

And just what a sheerly LIKABLE son of a bitch his roommate was.

Austin was a fantastic pilot. He had a natural skill for it. But he also utterly adored it. 

The man’s mind hadn’t been designed for memorizing the many mechanical parts of a machine. Austin was much better at understanding things approximately and reacting accordingly to it. Yet if anyone asked him to point out every part of an airplane's console, Austin could do it. Aerodynamics were one of the few sciences, outside of astrology, that genuinely interested him. So he’d become somewhat adept at that as well.

Over time Iverson was forced to confront the fact that a person, while not fundamentally hardworking in all things, COULD excel if given something they could truly find meaningful. It was a truth he wasn’t able to deny given that it was the only real explanation for his roommate's success.

Then there was Austin’s likability. The friendly nature that was practically second nature to the man. 

That was not at all to say he was a pushover. Oh no.

The number of absolutely avoidable brawls that had taken place over the course of both their careers because some drunken fool sitting at a bar said the wrong thing to Austin at exactly the wrong time, were too numerous to count. The man could and would stand up for himself and others if pushed too far. Honestly, the only reason Iverson hadn’t reported the man was because half of those brawls had been started in  _ his  _ defense.

It was difficult not to like a man who’d punch a six-foot biker in the face because he talked shit about his roommate.

Given this history, Iverson had expected to find a living space similar to what their old apartment would look like after he’d left Austin alone for a few months. A smelly trash heap filled with dirty laundry.

But what he found instead was rather unexpected.

It wasn’t neat per say, but tidied up. The room looked lived in, but not as though it never got cleaned. There were no dishes sitting in the open, nor any laundry tossed on the floor save for a jacket that had been left forgotten over the arm of a couch. For all intents and purposes, it was a normal adult living space.

Iverson sighed and sunk into one of the couch cushions.

Why was he even surprised? Of course, Austin wouldn’t carry on with the same sloven lifestyle after all this time. Of course, he’d learn to live on his own with no support.

So why did it all make Iverson feel so much pity for the man?

Even the drug thing. Why was he so desperate to prove himself wrong? To prove that that video was some kind of freak thing?

He shouldn’t care. He didn’t have a reason to care.

If it hadn’t been for Austin’s selfishness his life would have been far better. Hell, Austin’s life would be far better. Or not.

The heart defect would have reared its ugly head eventually. It could have been anywhere at any time. It COULD have been picked up before the test flight, but it was just slightly possible it might not have been.

Iverson supposed that was what bugged him about all this. This visit had incited feelings of uncertainty in him. About his own position in life, about Austin’s position, and about how he felt about his best frie-  _ former _ . Former best friend.

Glancing down at the coffee table, he spotted a book on the corner and picked it up. He needed to take his mind off of things. Reading had always helped to readjust his mind in the past. Didn’t matter what it was, so long as it was words.

He read the title, opened the book to the bookmarked page and read.

An hour later Iverson was in his car driving across the nighttime desert landscape back to his barrack at the garrison. His temporary feelings of camaraderie stifled, as he angrily tried to concentrate on the terrain in front of him and not on what he’d do to Austin the next time they saw one another.

Back at the shack, the book lay open on the floor where it had been thrown. It’s pages naturally lying in alignment with the most viewed page where a picture of a cactus with a pink flower lay in full view on the sheet with the caption;

_ Peyote; a small spineless cactus native to Mexico and southwestern texas known for its psychoactive alkaloids and  _ ** _hallucinogenic effects._ **

* * *

 

The stars were marvelous. Blinking down at him almost in their own sort of curiosity.

But for once Austin wasn’t looking at the stars. He was staring down at the small potted cactus in his hands. Rolling the pot in his fingers contemplatively, Austin considered his position.

Iverson’s drug suspicions COULD have arisen as a result of his dislike but Austin worried that this wasn't the case. He had never been the kind of person who jumped on people he hated with false accusations. 

No. That wasn’t his way.

Iverson was the picture of the ever dutiful and honorable soldier. Loyal and truthful to an absolute fault. He wouldn’t make up a drug scandal just to ruin Austin’s chance of a job at the garrison. It didn’t fit his character.

So the only other option was that he had somehow caught wind of his… experiments.

For the life of him, Austin couldn’t see what the big deal was. It wasn’t like he was dealing hard cocaine or smuggling heroin. It was just a matter of experimenting with a few natural remedies. Anything to make things a little more bearable.

He had heard peyote had been used as a reliever of ailments ranging from toothache all the way to pain in childbirth. It was a long shot but Austin had hoped the drug would have made some of the things about his condition a bit more bearable. If only to relieve the mental stress of the whole thing.

Austin had only really freaked out once. But that had been in the middle of nowhere where no one could see him. Otherwise, his experiments had been, if not fruitful, at least somewhat enjoyable.

But if Iverson was going to be riding his ass on the issue, then the cactus would probably cause more stress than it relieved. Just talking together had made him feel a bit more on edge than usual. Not that he hadn't enjoyed the change of pace. Or the offer.

His mind drifted to the job at the garrison Iverson had mentioned. 

It was a tempting offer.

The money he obtained from the garrison would be enough to set himself up in a better situation. No more drafty shack in the middle of the desert. The medical insurance would be a relief considering his condition. He wouldn’t have to live alone, and the townsfolk would likely stop talking in hushed whispers behind his back.

Yet this news didn’t make him happy. In fact, the disruption rather upset him.

Certainly, the money, insurance, and change of workspace were tempting. But what good would it do? He was bound to die eventually anyway, so what was the point of prolonging the inevitable. Besides, what was there to live for?

Astrology was great. Beautiful even. But it wasn’t… it wasn’t flying.

The feeling of being lighter than air. The sheer joy and passion it had brought him. There was no feeling in the world that could ever compare to it. And he’d been permanently cut off from it.

Leaning against the side of the truck, Austin looked out at the stars and came to a decision.

He would drive back to his house, wait until the next morning, make a quick call to the garrison (he’d get the number somehow), and tell them to take their job and shove it up all their asses.

Three years. Three goddamn years wasting away out here.

And Iverson only visited NOW?!

Austin didn’t have any close family members, he’d lost all his comrades to that stupid accident, he lost the ability to FLY.

But only NOW did his so-called best friend come see him. Only when his superiors twisted his arm and forced him to come out to pick up their showcase candidate. And what the actual hell was up with that reasoning?!

Why hello there! We’re making a school that could permanently influence future generations! Who should we hire as one of our instructors? I know! Why not that ace pilot we kicked out a few years ago? He’s not good for anything else RIGHT?!

Austin punched the metal of his truck before immediately regretting the action as he hissed in pain and tried to shake off the pain. The pain dissipated along with most of his anger.

Looking at the peyote in his hand, Austin moved to place the plant back in his truck. Once he turned down the job, Iverson would have no pretense to see him anymore. Not like there was anything he could do about his herb hobby anyway.

A flash of light appeared at the corner of Austin’s vision.

He blinked and shifted his gaze to its source, half expecting Iverson’s jeep speeding towards him.

The source of the light was a rather bright star.

Blinking, Austin scanned the horizon until he found Polaris and then shifted his gaze back at the star.

“You’re not supposed to be there.”

The star was so bright that he would have observed it at some point previously. Stars like THAT didn’t just APPEAR in the night sky on its own.

As he narrowed his eyes on the offensive little speck it became obvious that the speck… was moving.

A plane? No not likely.

It must have been some kind of debris breaking up in the atmosphere. A large meteorite of some kind likely.

His mind drifted back to that old superstition about wishing upon a shooting star.

Austin scoffed at the idea but nonetheless couldn’t help but speak the ridiculous rhyme he’d learned as a child.

Closing his eyes he muttered under his breath,“Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight: I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.”

He chuckled as he opened his eyes and thought to himself, I wish I could get that feeling back.

The star shone brighter as this thought.

And then brighter.

And brighter.

And then the ‘star’ flew across Austin’s vision and crashed with a bright flash behind a distant rock formation.

The former ace pilot stared as the flash dimmed but a newly, vaguely blue, luminescence filled the air. His jaw dropped in shock.

And the potted cactus crashed to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

((Quick repost of the link to Kalthara's design. You can find it [HERE](http://blue-starr-in-the-sky-port.tumblr.com/image/156294291554)))

* * *

 

Coming around to consciousness was not a pleasant experience.

The dark peace of Kalthara’s mind dissipated as the real world asserted its dominance. Flashing red lights surrounded her. Irritating her already sore eyes and causing her pounding head to intensify to the point of making even the simplest thought difficult to conjure. Things were made only the more worse by the pain that shot through her right arm.

Controlling her breathing until the pain subsided was all she could do for the moment. At least until the light from her own console stopped stinging her eyes. When her mind finally managed to focus, Kalthara tried to recall how she had gotten in this situation.

She could recall catching Kolivan as he’d prepared for another of his little excursions, the long trip to the abandoned altean colony, and the discovery they had made there.

Then she remembered the pirates attack. How she’d been hit. How Kolivan had instructed her to retreat.

Kolivan.

Kalthara’s eyes shot wide open. A mistake. She immediately felt them burn from the bright lights and shut them again. Attempting to adjust her gaze, she blinked and strained her eyes enough to see her console flashing the damaged warming.

A quick glance around showed that she hadn't been ejected from her ship. And she could still breathe so the life support had not failed. It was a small comfort.

Kalthara tested her limbs and winced at the ache in her arm.

There was no doubt that the bone was fractured. Because that was exactly what she need at the moment. A debilitating injury.

Raising her left arm to her comm she pushed the earpiece and spoke raspily. “Leader… Are you alright?”

Only static answered her.

Releasing the button and trying again she repeated more urgently this time. “Kolivan? Come in!”

More static.

“Brother? Brother, are you harmed! Where ARE you?!”

Static.

“Answer me!”

Pain surged through her body as the strain of her screaming took it’s toll.

Kalthara hissed in pain and grabbed at her shoulder in an attempt to dull the ache. Things were not looking good. Injured, stranded, ship too damaged to move. Now her communications were likely down and her navigational equipment shot to hell.

She only knew she wasn’t adrift in space because now some kind of gravitational pull was keeping her rooted in her seat but whether or not she was on an asteroid or some planet remained a mystery. At least until she could manage to crawl out of the ship to scout the area.

_ Things could not be any more dire than this. _

Her ears twitched inside her helmet at the sound of something moving around on the hull of her craft.

_ I stand corrected. _

Kalthara found the hilt of her blade and focused in on the sounds location.

Just on the port side of the vessel, the scraping sound of something climbing up the side sent echoes through the cockpit. It stopped just out of the view of the window. Putting the Galra more on edge. From the sounds she could tell whatever it was was clawing at the cockpit.

It was trying to get in.

She drew her knife and held it at the ready.

After a few short knocks on the hull, there was the vague sound of a voice muttering to itself and then the thing slid down the side of the ship.

Releasing a held breath, Kalthara allowed her nerves to calm somewhat. Perhaps whatever it was had decided to give up on the hopeless endeavor and left. It didn’t really matter, it was gone now and that was all that was important.

She kept her weapon handy and resolved to wait until the creature was far far away before leaving the craft. Just in case it decided to return.

Unfortunately as she sat there still as a stone, the corners of her mind slowly dimmed. The heaviness of her own body became more and more apparent with each passing moment. As the darkness of unconsciousness took her once more the only thing she could manage to hang on to was the blade in her hand.

* * *

 

Austin cursed to himself as his foot slid on the metal surface. 

At least he assumed it was metal. It was cool and hard like steel, but when he placed his hands on it, it felt almost like plastic. Or as close to plastic as a non-plastic material could get.

The craft itself was like nothing he’d ever seen. (Which was saying something.) It was the smoothest looking plane he’d ever seen. Practically a round bean with the only wings being folded back like a flies. The engines weren’t obviously visible though there were some rectangular vents in the back that drew his attention.

It looked like something straight out of a science fiction novel. Which he supposed was the whole point. Then again, considering it had fallen out of the sky maybe the garrison’s engineers should have spent less time watching star trek.

At least he assumed it was the garrisons.

There wasn’t any place else it  _ could  _ be from. Unless the local boy scout group had taken up military grade plane design as an activity. Which wouldn’t really surprise Austin any since his last run in with the group had involved a crashed rocket on the roof of his shack.

He gave it back. Eventually.

Finally reaching the cockpit once more, Austin took a moment to catch his breath before focusing in on the cockpits hatch. The fact that it was still closed despite the crash could only mean that the ejection system hadn’t deployed and whoever was piloting this contraption was trapped inside. While there was a chance that the impact had killed the pilot instantly, there was an equally good chance that they were still alive in there.

Steeling himself, he jabbed his crowbar into the crack that he assumed opened the cockpit and tried to pry the door open if only by a little. At least enough to get a good look inside and judge the damage. It occurred to him that in the dark he’d need some kind of flashlight if he ever hoped to see anything properly. But considering time was of the essence he doubted he could really afford a second trip to his truck.

By the time he got back the poor bastard might die of their injuries. If they weren’t dead already.

But just as the metal started to give way there was a hum, like an old computer made when it was switched on. Austin nearly stumbled backwards and onto the dirt as the glass of the cockpit glowed and vaporized into thin air. Regaining his balance he stared at the now open space where the dark glass once was.

Alright, he took it back. Those garrison engineers should probably watch a ton more Star Trek if  _ this  _ was the result.

Snapping out of his wonder induced thoughts, Austin hurriedly looked into the opening to check on the pilot. He was relieved to find a figure with all its limbs attached sitting in the chair and staring back at him. From the rise and fall of their chest they were clearly alive.

Well at least he didn't have a dead body on his hands. Rejecting the offer Iverson had given him would have been awkward with a death as part of the conversation. It would have felt too much like taking advantage of a tragedy.

Course now the great Commander Iverson owed him big. With such a great debt on his shoulders the crusty old soldier would almost assuredly forget about Austin's little  _ issue _ . Especially since it wouldn't even matter once he’d rejected the job offer.

Things were looking up.

Of course first he had to make sure the guy in the plane got to a hospital.

The pilot stirred in their chair. Their head lolling from side to side before managing to get their bearings straight and look up at him

“Hey,” he called in as he reached into the cockpit. “You finally awake?”

A flicker of silver flashed in the night and dazzled Austin’s eyes enough to make him take a step back. An action that proved to be life saving as the sharp knife missed him by centimeters and just grazed his brow. Losing his footing, he fell backward and landed flat on his back onto the dirt.

He lay there stunned until the shadow of a figure crawling out of the hull drew his attention. They focused on him and leapt,  _ leapt _ , meters into the air, shining dagger drawn and ready for the kill.

Austin rolled out of the way just barely managing to avoid the killing blade as it dug itself into the dirt where his torso used to be. The figure pulled hard to withdraw the weapon before stumbling backwards and falling to the ground. He paused for just a moment, but the stranger took the opportunity to push themselves up just enough swipe at him again.

He scrambled across the ground, limbs flailing as he tried desperately to dodge the strange weapon. Backing all the way against the wall of rocks behind him, Austin watched as his attacker once more tried to push themselves up before falling once more. 

Staring at the recumbent figure, Austin tried to steady his haggard breathing. On impulse his hands flew to his neck and instantly checked his pulse. 

His heart was beating fast and hard. But it was still beating.

Well at least he wasn’t about to literally die from fright.

Austin sat a stared at the crumpled up figure on the dirt in front of him, just waiting for it to move again.

But it didn’t

After several long minutes of just sitting and staring at the body of his attacker, Austin crawled over to where his crowbar had landed after it had flung from his hand in the fall. Slowly but surely, he crawled quietly across the ground until he was close enough to poke the figure with the hooked end of the crowbar.

It didn’t stir.

He poked them in the back a few times before lightly tapping their helmet. Expecting a response he pulled back, but the body lay still and unmoving on the ground.

“Hey you uh, ya aint dead are ya?”

Cautiously he turned the body over, getting a better look at them. 

The flight suit was something else.

Like the ship, it looked like something familiar. Like Latex or some kind of spandex. But up close it looked nothing like any material he’d ever seen. It felt smoother, thicker, and even harder than the sturdiest bulletproof fabric. Even Kevlar had nothing on this.

The dim glowing points and thin lines threw him for a loop though. What was the point of something like that? Was it to make the pilot more easily visible during a test flight? Were there electrical implants to track vital statistics?

It was strange.

But the strangest thing was the mask. 

There hadn’t been any kind of breathing apparatus attached and Austin couldn’t make sense of the way it was attached to the hood. It just seemed to be fused with the material. Then of course the eye holes were just two round circles. Which seemed like a deliberately design flaw if he was being honest.

The peripheral vision would have been completely cut off. Looking through the thing had to be like trying to see through two toilet paper rolls taped to your face.

Lifting the figures arm, Austin let it fall experimentally. Checking for a pulse or any kind of heartbeat was going to be difficult with all the strange contraptions they were wearing. Hell, Austin wasn’t even sure what to do anymore now that he’d been attacked by his would be rescuee.

The less chivalrous side of his character suggested just leaving the jerk there and going back home like nothing had ever happened. While the more realistic side reasoned that somebody would find the ship  _ eventually  _ and th, by then, most definitely dead psycho pilot. And in the far corner of Austin’s mind, surrounded by cobwebs, was a tiny but persistent voice that kept nagging him to help the person who had just tried to stab him in the face. 

Austin sighed as he gave in by hooking his arms under the pilots and dragging them along towards his truck. Whether dead or unconscious they were NOT sitting up front with him.

Just as he finished loading the pilot into his trunk, Austin noticed something shimmering in the moonlight just feet from him. Wandering over he pulled the strange knife out of the dirt.

He’d never seen anything like it. The weapon almost seemed to glow in the dark. It’s curve and shape nothing like a military issued knife. Everything about it; it’s weight, it’s feel, even just the aura it gave off, was otherworldly.

Something, some idea, egged at him from the back of his mind. But Austin ignored it as he stashed the weapon into his jacket before getting behind the wheel.

He could deal with the introspection later.

Right now he had a call to make.

* * *

 

Iverson undid the flask and took a long drink from the contents before wiping his mouth and sitting back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he allowed the warm buzz of the alcohol to wash over him and calm his rattled nerves.

What the hell would he tell his superiors?

The book aside, there was no real hard evidence of Austin taking narcotics. There was the video, sure, but it didn’t actually show the man taking the drug. Just the after effects.

While that would certainly be enough to start up an investigation such flimsy evidence would never be admissible in court. But now that Austin was aware of Iverson’s suspicions he was bound to stop… right?

He was disturbed to realize that he didn’t know.

The Austin Iverson had known in the air force certainly would have abandoned any course of action if it seemed he might be caught and punished. He had limited himself only to what he knew he could get away with. But back then he had had something to lose.

The man Iverson saw in the desert was not the same man he had known all those years ago.

It was too dramatic to call it a complete metamorphosis but the change was still relatively drastic.

He was more haggard and worn looking. Much less muscular than his air force days, though he was still far from lean. And while his friendly and open personality was more or less intact, it was rusty. Smiles were more forced and his conversations less lively.

How much of it was the result of living alone and how much was the drugs, haunted Iverson to no end.

Figuring out his own feelings had always been a struggle for the commander. Largely because how he felt about the things that happened around him mattered so little in the grand scheme of things. He was a soldier. His duty came before anything else. Any private thoughts or feelings needed to be sorted out immediately before they could negatively affect any of his decisions.

Right now how he felt about Austin NEEDED to be sorted out. Their history together didn’t matter. The man was a candidate for a highly desired position in the most ambitious military project in hundreds of years. 

The positive effects such an opportunity would have on Austin needed to be left out of the equation. Being a flight instructor meant having a serious influence on the people who would be leading the future of the garrison’s space exploration program. The last thing they needed was an instructor who experimented with cactus of all things.

He didn’t even need to bust Austin on the drug thing. All Iverson had to do was tell his higher ups that the man wasn’t worthy of the position. It wouldn’t even be that hard to come up with a good argument. He’d drag out the parts of his army record that often went ignored.

The pranks, all the times he’d snuck off base, and the  _ women _ . 

Iverson had never told anyone about the women Austin had snuck onto the base. The man was like a texan casanova. He’d always been naturally attractive to women and known it. If it all came down to it, he could just bring that up to his superiors and have the issue dropped.

But then he had to remember the way Austin had looked out there in that shack. He had to remember talking to that doctor. Hearing the deadpan way he talked about his longtime friend’s inevitable demise.

Rubbing his temples, Iverson tried to ignore the traitorous thoughts taking form.

_ NO, nonono. Focus on your duty Mitch.  _

His duty.

What even WAS his duty right now?

What his superiors wanted? They only wanted to bring Austin on board for the notoriety. They’d barely skimmed his astrological career.

The law? Sure doing peyote outside of religious practices was still illegal, but he had no solid proof of Austin actually taking the drug.

The future of the garrison? He believed in it but he wasn’t sure if rejecting or accepting Austin was what would secure the organization's future.

Austin was a reckless, washed up, has-been. But if Iverson was being perfectly honest with himself he still had yet to meet a pilot who had been half as good as Austin had been in his prime. If he could just clean up his act, then making him an instructor wouldn’t be a problem.

Of course there was still a chance that things weren’t as bad as he thought.

Maybe the video was incidental? Perhaps Austin had just taken an interest in desert wildlife? Afterall just  _ having  _ the cactus didn’t make his former wingman a drug taker.

The phone on the coffee table rang.

Setting down the flask, Iverson picked up the cell with a puzzled look on his face. The number displayed was unregistered on his phone, and yet it seemed familiar to him. On a whim he picked up the call.

“Commander Mitch Iverson, speaking.”

There was a hesitant pause before a familiar voice came in over the line. “H-Heyyyy buddy.”

“Austin?!” Iverson looked at his phone in bewilderment. “How did you get this number?!”

“The better question is why ya haven’t changed yer cellphone number in three years.”

“You kept my cellphone number?”

“Not the point. Look, I kinda got a situation over here.”

“What do you mean?” He stood up. “What’s happened?!”

“Okay so, after we talked I went out to do some stargazing. Everythin was goin great until I spotted this star that wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Iverson frowned. “Are you calling me because you saw a star?”

“No no, that’s not it! It wasn’t a star!”

“So… a comet?”

“NO! It was a ship!”

Iverson fell silent, allowing Austin to continue.

“It just flew through the sky and crashed. I went over to check it out. Next thing I know I’m looking at some contraption that looked like it had been wheeled straight out of a science fiction convention.”

Sitting down, the commander pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He couldn’t believe what he was listening to.

“So, I check in on the pilot like a good samaritan, right? And guess what happens?!” He paused, clearly expecting a response. When none came he carried on regardless. “The sonnova bitch just up and ATTACKS me! With a knife!”

The commander sighed, “Austin… are you alright?”

“Wha- Of course I’m not alright! I just got attacked by one of your pilots!”

“What do you mean one of  _ my  _ pilots?” Iverson asked dangerously.

The tone flew over Austin’s head completely. “I  _ mean  _ one of the garrison’s ships just crashed out here and it’s pilot attacked me!”

“The garrison is a military school Austin!” His anger was beginning to boil over. To be called in the middle of the night. To be given this nonsense. To have his last bit of faith completely shattered. “A NEW one! We don’t HAVE any ships.”

There was silence on the other end before Austin’s voice hesitantly asked, “C-come again?”

“No planes, Kogane. We haven’t even fully stocked the mess hall yet. And the last thing a space exploration program needs are unmanned planes around teenagers.”

“So let me get this straight. You guys aren’t launching  _ any  _ experimental craft right now?”

“NO! I don’t know what kind of drug high yer on right now but-”

“Iverson,” Austin cut in. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

The line went dead.

Iverson sat as though he had been turned to stone. His blood ran hot through his veins like lava slithering through the cracks of a volcano. Finally, he burst.

With a roar of anger he hurled the phone across the room, where it bounced off a nearby chair and clattered to the ground. Covering his face in his hands, Iverson tried to suppress the now roaring feelings of betrayal in his heart.

It was his own fault.

He’d allowed himself to be delusional and ignore the straight facts that lay bare before him. Even if it had only been for a brief moment before the phone rang, Iverson had actually been on the verge of thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong about Austin. That perhaps this whole drug fiasco was some kind misunderstanding.

But then the damn phone just HAD to ring and Austin just HAD to give him that bullshit story about a ship. There was no covering up this one. His old partner had always been a jokester, but he’d never been the type to pull shit like this. Not without there being something behind it.

Iverson’s mind flew to those words he had read in the book. The ones that burned in his memory now.

That small caption about peyote and it’s hallucinogenic effects.

* * *

 

Austin hung up the phone and looked back at the figure he had laid out on his couch.

It had been a struggle just to get the damn fool up the stairs of the porch. He had actually had to pull them up by the legs, wincing every time their head had bumped on a step. He’d lain them down on the sofa, hoping they wouldn’t awaken and try to snap his neck or rip out his kidney or something.

Handcuffing them to the furniture's legs had been an idea he’d entertained momentarily before realizing that they’d just lift up the furniture to get away. Besides, he didn’t have handcuffs.

And even if they had attacked him, the pilot was still severely injured. Austin was sure he’d felt at least one broken bone in their arm as he’d moved the heavy bastard. Tying up someone who was hurt felt like something a supervillain would do.

All he could really do was pray that they wouldn’t try and attack him even without their knife. Or that they wouldn’t have the sense to search for the damn thing.

The weapon had been too disturbing to keep his eyes on. The way the metal had curved. It’s sharpened edge. The feeling as though it was something that was meant, no, HAD been used.

The damn thing had actually glowed. Illuminating the darkened shack with a disturbing blue light. Wrapping it up in a towel and stashing it under a floorboard had probably been extreme, but just that one action had already set his mind at ease enough for him to call Iverson.

But now he was left with a brand new worry.

Moving as quietly as possible to the unconscious figure on the bed, Austin reached towards the mask that covered their face.

If Iverson had been telling the truth about the garrison then this wasn’t one of their pilots. It was someone else. His brain told him it had to be some kind of sci-fi nerd, while his gut reminded him that the world was at a shaky peace at best. Spies were still likely about all over the place gaining intel where they could.

But his instincts were the ones that were blaring like a siren. Telling him that something was wrong. That something out of the ordinary had arrived.

Their face.

He just had to see their face.

Once he saw their face he felt sure his nerves would calm. All he had to see was some kind nerd with zits, or some hulking ugly brute. But even as he thought this his instincts argued against him.

Running his fingers along the rim of the mask, Austin tried to find some kind of slip, some opening to remove it and see it’s owner’s face. When he failed to find one, he began to allow his fingers to roam the hood in the hopes that there’d be some flap or velcro that would peel the mask away.

It was only when both his hands were on the side of the pilot’s face that he managed to find it. 

There wasn’t a button or a flap or a zipper or anything some contemporary piece of clothing might have. Instead Austin felt something, some strange tingle under his fingertips that flowed through the fabric. The mask glowed a bright flashing blue before dissipating the same way the glass of the ship had done before. 

The face that stared back at Austin through the hood looked calm and peaceful. Unconsciousness had taken away any expression of anger or worry leaving behind a look of untouched apathy that only the peacefulness of sleep could bring about.

Austin’s gaze lingered on the long dark eyelashes, and the curve of the brow before noticing the white almost artistic markings that were arranged around the eyes and on the forehead. It took him a moment to realize that the lines directly above the eyes were actually eyebrows.

From there his eyes drifted to the snow white hair. Running his thumb over the strands of hair, Austin was surprised to find that it was soft to the touch. A few hairs had come loose and were now draped over the strange face. With his free hand, he brushed the hair out of the way only to feel something twitch under the folds of the hood.

He pulled the hood down and stared at what looked like ears. Furry, purple, twitching ears. Austin touched the tip of only to have it wiggle away from his finger. The pilot winced in their sleep at the touch but failed to awaken.

It was at this point that Austin’s mind pulled back and ran over the face in it’s entirety. And realized it was purple.

With a yelp he pulled both his hands back, causing the pilot’s head to fall back onto the armrest.

Austin scrambled off of the couch and backed away to the far side of the room, his thoughts racing.

An alien. It was the only reasonable explanation. He had an alien in his house.

But was this ET?

Or Independence Day?


	5. Chapter 5

Out of all the times Kalthara had found herself coming out of unconsciousness that day she found this third (and hopefully final) time to be the (comparatively) most pleasant.

The headache and dizziness were still present but had lessened considerably though her stomach felt like it had been taken out, stretched every which way and placed back into her abdomen at exactly the wrong angle. The surroundings were much more quiet and peaceful than they had been and light once more stung her open eyes. 

Instead of a hard pilot’s chair, Kalthara had been lain onto some kind of cushion. It was far too small for a creature the size of a galra as both her head and legs hung off the raised sides awkwardly. Otherwise it was reasonably comfortable. The ache in her arm remained, but had decreased considerably to the point that it was now a mildly annoying soreness.

As her eyes focused she could see a dim light shining through a small glass panel. Moving her stiff neck to look down at herself, she was surprised to see her arm had been splinted and placed into a makeshift sling.

Funny. Kalthara couldn’t remember doing that.

Sitting up slowly, she took the opportunity to take in her surroundings.

It was a tiny primitive dwelling. A poorly made one at that with cracked walls, old unattractive furniture, and a very distinctive smell.

Kalthara's ears flattened as she sniffed experimentally.

The smell was pungent. A mix of sweat and earth that permeated the air and stung the galra’s sensitive nose. She tried to focus on the source of the offensive smell and found herself staring at a pile of junk, most of which looked like it had been taken from other parts of the room and turned over to create a makeshift fort.

Just as she narrowed her eyes to try and get a better look at the structure, something flew over the top of the structure and struck her in the middle of the forehead. Jolting back Kalthara sat stunned, expecting some kind of pain to overwhelm her. When none came she allowed her muscles to relax just enough to free up movement.

Her eyes wandered down to the floor where the offensive little speck that had struck her now lay.

It looked like some kind of nut.

Another nut struck her ear while she was distracted. Growling, Kalthara glared at the structure instinctively reaching for her knife freezing as she grabbed at empty air. 

Looking down in a panic, the horrific sight of an empty sheath on her waist met her widening eyes.

Angry eyes shifting once more to the pile of garbage, Kalthara caught the next nut as it flew through mid-air.

“Who is there?!” When no reply came she pushed herself shakily to her feet. “I demand that you answer me, or I will come over there and extract an answer for myself!”

Something moved from behind the pile and some type of appendage raised over the top and waved.

“Alright alright! Not a pecan person? Fine! I got walnuts? Ya like walnuts?”

The odd reply gave Kalthara a turn as she watched dumbfounded as the arm was followed by a complete lifeform. One that left her with a distinct feeling of being… unimpressed.

It wasn’t as though she had been expecting much.

She had traversed all over the galra empire on missions for the blades since she had been big enough to properly grip the hilt of her knife. In that time she had thought she had seen every species the galra empire had conquered. Numerous limbs and oozing orifices had become commonplace amongst her expectations when seeing someone new.

But this new creature was relatively boring by comparison. It had a basic structure similar to a galra but much smaller, leaner, with shorter arms, and practically hairless. It was only when she squinted that Kalthara could notice some noticeably coarse hair on it’s arms and face. That was all save for a mop of brown hair that topped the head.

Incredibly unremarkable.

The one thing she did notice were the misshapen ears. Rounded and flat to the head but still noticeable. She grimaced at their ugliness.

Despite the hideous ears, the creature otherwise looked very harmless. No claws, fangs, or venomous spines to speak of. Just a low rather soothing tone of voice that lulled even her hardened nerves into semi-security. 

“Look,” the voice made her ears twitch in attention. “I know it ain’t reese's pieces, but the nuts and dried food is all I’ve got to snack on.”

It occurred to Kalthara that the tone was shaky and unsure. The creature was holding itself together fairly well under the circumstances, but it was still very clearly cautious of her given the way it stayed behind the hastily thrown together fort.

_ Good _ , she thought with some satisfaction.  _ So long as it’s afraid of me I have the advantage. _

“Where am I?” she demanded. “How did I get here? Where is my ship? How long have I been out? Where is my weapon?”

Then, as an afterthought, she asked, “and who or what are you?”

“Uhh,” The creature paused in thought, as if needing to take a moment to review itself.

_ Wonderful _ , Kalthara frustratingly thought.  _ It’s slow. _

“Well, yer in my house. I took ya here in my truck, it should still be where ya left it, you’ve been out since last night. I, uh, I dunno about any weapon.” It paused before finishing. “A-and I’m Austin. In that order. Pleased to meet ya... maybe.”

Her eyebrows creased in remembrance. “I’ve never heard of the… Oospins before.”

“No, no. See I’m human. Austin is my  _ name _ . And it’s pronounced like Os-tin.”

“Otin?”

“Austin.”

“Ovstain?”

“AUSTIN.”

Kalthara paused and tried once more. “Osteen?”

“NO! I-” Austin took a deep calming breath through his nose before saying. “Ya know what? It doesn’t even matter right now. We can sort that out later. What I need to know right now is what yer doin here.”

“What I’M doing here?”

“Yeah what YOU’RE doing here.” He clarified sounding rather annoyed. “Are ya here to scout stuff out, kill us all, or what? Cause knowing where I stand with ya will really help me decide how I should be reacting right now.”

Confusion clouded Kalthara’s mind before the bright light of realization dawned.

Right. She was a galra. 

This strange “human” must have thought she was with the empire. 

It would certainly explain why he was being so cautious with her. If she was the first of an invading force, he couldn’t be too careful. While if she was just a crashed scout, patching her up would certainly help place him into her better graces and keep any presumed allies from bearing down on him.

Regardless of which it was, he was wanting an explanation for her presence. Which meant the truth was the last thing she wanted to tell.

“I was,” she paused grasping at an idea. “I was sightseeing before my ship crashed here.”

It was a poor excuse. Kalthara could see from the look on his face that the human didn’t buy it for a moment. No one would. But she had never been particularly good at coming up with truly believable lies. She had never had to do so.

All of the missions she had been involved in hadn’t involved  _ talking  _ to people. Unless shoving a knife into a sentries chestplate counted as talking.

“Rrrright.” Austin shifted somewhat from behind his pile of furniture. “So if I come out from behind here. I have your word that you won’t try to kill me?”

She thought about the question seriously.

“If I have your word that you will not try to kill  _ me _ .”

In response, Austin moved slowly out from behind the fort and stood staring at the alien woman.

Kalthara sat back down on the cushioned seat, doing her best to not make it seem like she was collapsing. Even if this human wasn’t hostile, it didn’t do to show weakness. For all she knew he could have been planning to do away with her the moment her guard was down.

(The logical side of the galran woman’s brain told her that if he had wanted to kill her, he would have done so while she had been unconscious and helpless.

The paranoid side told the logical side to shut up.)

Austin stared at the alien. It was only now that the morning light shone through the window that he realized that she was a woman. That fact quickly got buried as his mind drifted to other worries. Mainly concerning the ship that he’d left alone at that outcropping.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that his current position wasn’t exactly ideal. If someone came across that ship, they were sure to report it to the garrison. And if the garrison started snooping around they were sure to find the alien in Austin’s house. And if they found an alien in Austin’s house, then everything would be over. No amount of tucking cactus into the back of his truck would hide his experiments from the proper authorities then. 

Course that would be the least of his worries.

Once it became known that there was an alien crash site near his home, Austin’s peaceful days of mapping out the stars would be a thing of the past. Members of the garrison would be stamping around with fancy bits of handheld technology that beeped every five seconds looking for alien radiation. His old shack would probably get bulldozed over to make a new research base. And the whole area, every little rocky outcropping and speck of dirt he had come to know and love, would be fenced off and made into the second Area 51.

The alien woman would probably be carted off and experimented on or dissected or something. Though that bit was really none of his business. She HAD tried to kill him after all so Austin’s sympathies towards her were not exactly running strong.

Turning her in wouldn’t absolve his worries. In fact, it would likely make things worse. Once he did that, he’d suddenly be involved in the investigation much more than he would have been if she’d simply been found on his property. And he didn’t want that.

Glancing at the creature on his couch, Austin questioned what unlucky star he had to have been born under to have something like this happen to him.

Out of all the deserts in all the world, she just had to crash land in his.

Kalthara’s own thoughts were not that different from Austin’s in tone. She avoided looking at the human at all costs. Preferring to busy herself with her own problems. Mainly the one that worried her the most was that she had very little idea of where she was.

She had never heard of humans before. Which meant that whatever rock she was currently on was likely unknown to her as well. It was an irritating mess to be in.

One glance at the technology this Osteen had in his pathetic little abode did not give her even the slightest bit of comfort. It wasn’t quite neanderthalic, but it was still annoyingly primitive. She doubted she could make much use of it to fix her ship. If this planet had any kind of technology she could actually use it certainly wouldn’t be in this rundown little shack or in the hands of this small-minded and simple little creature. 

Still, she supposed he might be of use. 

Her injury limited her movement, and running around asking about the most advanced technology this planet had to offer was bound to bring about suspicion. Especially if word got round that a galra had crash landed. At best she’d be turned into the empire for a tidy sum, and at worst the inhabitants themselves would stone her death or devise some other nasty fate for her. In such a case having someone around who knew of the local customs might be useful.

But that meant trusting this human, and Kalthara was hesitant to take that step.

Bits and pieces of her memory had returned, recalling that it had been this human that had crawled up her craft and peered inside. She couldn't be sure what he’d been after in that moment. Had he simply wanted to satiate his own curiosity, or had he intended to raid the wreck?

If it had been the latter, then her awakening and attack had likely wrecked his plans and rattled his nerves. It didn’t explain why he had taken her here, but Kalthara wasn’t about to say that it had been out of the kindness of his heart. It was far more likely that he was at a loss for what else to do with her and simply didn't have the mettle to finish her off on his own.

On any other occasion, Kalthara would have rejected the idea of trusting him as a matter of course but her current situation made that option null and void. And though she racked her brains to come up with another option, she could think of none.

It pained her to acknowledge that, at the very least, she would have to tolerate Osteen’s existence until he was no longer of any use to her. At which point she would have to find an opening to abandon him. Maybe even kill him if it became necessary. But she’d rather it didn’t come to that.

Dead bodies had a notorious habit of turning up and leaving a trail and besides, she did technically owe he man her life. So it seemed wrong to just kill him simply because he was no longer of use. Besides it wouldn’t even be necessary so long as she kept her identity as a blade a secret from him.

Her mind drifted to the empty sheath at her waist.

Now THAT was a problem that she needed to address as soon as possible. Preferably without Osteen noticing.

Even if she managed to get her ship back together and in working order, Kalthara could not leave the planet without her ceremonial blade. Well she technically could, but she would not get a warm welcome once she made it back to the Marmora base.

The ceremonial blades had all been crafted from a rare metal mined from a now dead planet. She hadn’t actually paid much attention when her instructors had explained where the metal had come from. It had seemed to be such gratuitous information at the time. Especially when a simple “This weapon is one of a kind so don’t lose it” would have sufficed.

But even so, if she arrived without the weapon in hand Kolivan would undoubtedly be very cold to her about the loss. Carrying on and on about the importance of the weapon and how important it was to the history of their order, etc. And she would stand there, not really listening, but still being embarrassed as the other blades shunned her. From there she’d be shipped off to the outer reaches and join the other lesser member of the order where she’d have to work herself back up into the inner circle.

Going through such a thing would not only be difficult, but frustratingly humiliating. There were only two good excuses a Marmoran could give for the loss of their blade. Death, or succession. 

In the case of death the blade would be recovered and made their memoriam until it could be passed on to a brand new member of the order. Who would then wield the weapon in their memory and carry on the fallen blades duty.

But in the case of succession, Kalthara was expected to hand off her blade to a person of her choosing. Essentially relinquishing her position in the order to her successor upon her inevitably violent demise at the hand of the enemy. Assuming they could pass the trial without ending up a corpse of course. And she HAD to relinquish the blade willingly. Otherwise the knife wouldn’t change ownership until she died.

None of these potential options appealed to Kalthara on any level. She hated the idea of having to start from the bottom of the order. In the time it took her to crawl her way back to the top, Kolivan would likely have gotten himself killed. And just the thought of a bunch of inexperienced brats having authority over her made her blood boil. But more than anything else, Kalthara didn’t wish to relinquish the blade for one simple reason.

It was her’s.

In all of her life, in the whole of the universe, the blade was the only thing that was completely undeniably and absolutely HERS. No one else could use it as long as she acknowledged it as such. It simply wouldn’t awaken for anyone else.

Her fate, her life, her role in the blades. It had all been thrust upon her as a small child. With no heed taken of her own whims or fancies.

But the blade, Kalthara’s blade, had  _ chosen  _ her. It hadn’t been a matter of her being born for it. The blade had tested her and she had proven herself to it. It was something she had earned completely of her own merit, and that held more value to her than any paltry mission her ancestors had predetermined for her.

Which made its absence all the more distressing to her.

But the best means she had to find it, as well as secure her own survival, was standing across the room looking at her. Kalthara stifled a groan of frustration.

She hated having to do things she didn’t want to, but right now she didn’t seem to have a choice. It was either partner up with the human or strike out on her own on a planet she knew absolutely nothing about. Which wasn’t much of a choice at all.

On the bright side, he seemed to be only semi-intelligent. At least if his technology was anything to go by. So getting him to do what she wanted should be easy. But first she had to get the upperhand.

“Now see here-” She began but stopped as Austin began at the same time.

“Look, I-” he stopped as well.

They both narrowed their eyes at each other and tried again. This time with Austin starting.

“I think we should probably-”

“Listen, we-”

They stopped again.

The third round proved to be the tie breaker.

“We need to make a deal.” Kalthara shot out before the human began.

Austin blinked. 

Paused. 

Then asked, “What kinda deal?”

* * *

 

Kolivan sat in his quarters.

He had been there ever since returning to the base. Everything that had occurred between then and now was a distant unfeeling blur. Only a few moments stood out. 

Stumbling out of the ship. A few of his men greeting him and him being unable to respond. Concerned voices. Question’s he’d been too numb to answer.

Ulaz had said something about shock before having Antok bustle Kolivan out of the hanger just as more of the blades arrived. The only other thing he could remember was the sight of what remained of the altean artifact moored to his damaged ship. 

It was a sorry sight. Torn in half, edges of twisted melted metal jagged and sharp. The image was burned into his memory and stood out especially strongly.

As time went on more memories came back to him.

The images of the enemy ships firing on him and Kalthara. Their successful escape into the asteroid field. Then he had been hit.

At this point, the whole scene replayed itself in his mind in chilling detail. 

His ship stalled both from the damage as well as the added weight of his cargo. A second shot flew through space towards him when his sister’s ship had changed trajectory and, in a textbook example of clumsy off the fly piloting, collided with Kolivan’s cargo before both took the full force from the blast. The artifact ripped in two and a sudden flash of blue light exploded from the inside of it. From the light a flat disk formed in the middle of the void. It’s form seemed to fade and brighten sporadically as sparks of energy erupted from it.

From his seat in the cockpit Kolivan had been forced to watch in helpless horror as Kalthara was sucked into the disk as though it was sinking into a pool of liquid. But instead of coming out the other side, the ship disappeared into thin air.

Once fully consumed, the blue disk had collapsed in on itself and vanished into nothingness.

After that Kolivan could barely recall robotically returning to the base, feeling nothing. Only the threat of the pirate’s firing on his rear kept him going.

None of it seemed to be real.

A part of him wanted to believe that all of it had been a dream. That he had just woken up and was now sitting in his quarters in a daze. But the aches in his limbs from the way his ship had tossed him around was a grim reminder of reality.

Kolivan wasn’t normally a man who denied the truth. Yet he desperately wanted to deny this one. He didn’t want any of this to have happened. He didn’t want any of it to be really real.

He didn’t want his sister to be gone.

Prickly and abrasive though she was, Kalthara was his sister. His twin. The only galra alive that shared his blood. The only one who had always, always, been there.

The recognition of all of this had not be obvious before. His sister not being there had never seemed… it wasn’t something that had ever occurred to him.

Kolivan had lost comrades. Friends. Old mentors.

It had hurt. Each loss had affected him in its own way. Driving him to find a way to finally end this conflict with the empire so that his friends death’s could be avenged.

But this… this was different.

All other emotion surrendered to the all consuming numbness. Nothing but the sight of his sister disappearing right before his eyes filled his mind.

Even worse was the knowledge that it had not been the empire that had taken her away.

It was him.

His fault.

Kalthara had always told him that his dabbling with altean technology would come back to bite him someday. If he had heeded her…

Slumping against the wall adjacent to his bed, Kolivan stared at the dark metal walls of his quarters. Something inside of him was slowly growing. Welling up behind his eyes. Strict training kept the something dammed up inside.

Other, much more distant, memories began to occupy his mind.

They day he and his sister had lost their parents. Their training days amongst the blades. How they had supported one another both before and after their respective trials. 

It all seemed to flow into his mind all at once..

The damn broke.

And he mourned.


	6. Chapter 6

Austin winced as he poked the clumsily placed bandage on his brow. 

Even through the rather muddied side mirror of his truck he could tell he’d have to get stitches. The gauze had stopped the bleeding, but only after a large red blotch had dyed through the material. A scar was basically inevitable.

For starters, a scar over the brow wasn’t all that noticeable. If it had been a big one over his lip or nose then maybe, but as it was a tiny clip on the brow was unlikely to raise a comment.

Even if it did there were numerous explanation he could come up with. He could have tripped and fell cutting his face on a sharp rock. He could have had some kind of freak accident involving a knife. He could come up with some terrifying story of confronting a mugger. 

Hell, even the  _ truth  _ could be passed off as some kind of drunken joke.

When he thought about it, Austin figured he had the right face for a scar. He wasn’t self conscious or vain or anything, but he had to admit that a scar in this particular position made him feel a little badass.

No, the graze on his brow didn’t worry him any, but the person who put it there on the other hand… Austin glanced over at the ship. 

Kalthara had ordered him, actually  _ ordered  _ him, to stay with the truck as she inspected the wreckage of her ship. Austin wasn’t sure how he felt about being ordered around by an alien woman. A GIANT alien woman at that.

It surprised him how he hadn’t managed to notice how large she was. He supposed the adrenaline from the attack had been fueling him at that point, hence why he had failed to notice that he was loading a seven-foot tall alien into the bed of his truck. The dark of the night had likely obscured things as well.

Still, he should have caught on sooner. The way her head and legs hung off his couch was one sign. Then there was the way the tips of her ears just barely avoided touching the ceiling. And the way he always had to look up when speaking to her when they were both standing.

Instead Austin only noticed when it became apparent that Kalthara simply could not fit into the driver's seat of his truck. It wasn’t even simply a matter of height. Her arms and legs were so gangly there was just nowhere for them to go.

In the end she had had to ride in the back as Austin drew them both back to where the ship had crashed the night before. It was a longer drive than he remembered, but there had been so much on his mind that the time had flown past.

The second they’d arrived, Kalthara had complained about the “primitive vehicle”, how it was “practically falling apart”, and how she had “almost lost my head!”

Austin had felt the need to defend the worn out old truck. Sure, he hadn’t liked it much himself, but he now felt an odd kinship with the thing. At least in the face of the overly critical Kalthara.

The worst of it was how obviously she was trying, and failing, to be pleasant. His presence clearly irritated her. Austin was willing to bet that if he hadn’t been the only available assistance she had then he’d very likely be dead and buried in the desert. Assuming aliens even bothered with that kind of thing.

For all he knew being left out for the buzzards was the height ceremonial burial practices where she came from.

He yawned and unwisely allowed his thoughts to wander.

It should not have been possible to be bored while being parked next to a spaceship but here he was. Austin wanted to equate this experience to being the getaway driver fro a bank heist and maybe make things more exciting, but one glance at the empty desert crushed that notion. Even if there had been a bank to rob out here it would be manned by shifty-eyed lizards hoarding flies like they were gold bars.

Besides if Kalthara had half a mind to rob a bank Austin doubted she would actually need a getaway driver. She’d probably just walk out the front door. There really wasn’t much cops could do against an alien woman with the strength of ten gorillas.

He sat in the rather limited shade his truck provided and tried to occupy himself with figuring out the time.

It had been night when he’d found Kalthara and carried her back to his house. He couldn’t say how long it had taken him to build that - admittedly ridiculous- fort but it couldn’t have taken more than half an hour. Then Kalthara had woken up sometime after sunrise and they’d talked.

A lot.

Well… maybe not A LOT but more than Austin was used to.

After all the initial awkwardness the two had come to something vaguely resembling an understanding. Things had developed way too quickly for Austin to back out. His best chance at coming out of this experience relatively unscathed was to play along and avoid any gruff patches until the alien was GONE. Once she was gone Austin could spend the rest of his expectantly short life pretending Kalthara had never existed.

But before then he’d have to make sure she COULD leave. From the looks of things her ship was heavily damaged. Practically a scrap heap. At least that’s what he surmised from the way Kalthara was kicking it.

Some gestures were universal.

Austin hoped she was just overreacting Now that he was looking at the ship in the daylight the sheer alienness of it hit him with full force. He really didn’t have the proper words to describe it.

The color, the way the light hit it, the shape,  _ everything  _ could only be described as alien.

Leave fixing it until later, hiding it was the critical point right now.

All it would take was on random hiker or wayward plane for the whole military or garrison or whatever to come bearing down on them. With quarantine tents, muffled up scientists, armed guards, the whole nine yards.

The hard part would be convincing Kalthara to go along with it. He doubted she’d object to the idea itself for her own sake, but she might fight the idea simply because it had come from Austin. Besides she might take it as him trying to tell her what to do and he somehow doubted she’d take that well.

Course if he could somehow convince her it was  _ her  _ idea….

His eyes wandered across the rocky outcropping as he thought hard about how to breach the subject to his new roommate without getting stabbed in the face again when he spotted something.

Something metal.

Some metal that refracted light the same way the alien ship did.

Something that was, in fact, a number of yards AWAY from the alien ship.

Something that, currently, was not part of the alien ship.

But it could be.

He checked to see what Kalthara was doing and was satisfied to see her messing around with the cockpit. Lucky. Chances were she was checking the damage to the inner system and wouldn’t notice him wandering off a bit. With a wry grin, Austin stood and made his way towards where he’d seen the refracting light.

If it WAS a part of the ship, finding it would be one hell of an ice breaker.

* * *

 

Things were worse than she had thought.

It wasn’t just that the navigational and communication systems were down, the inner working of the craft itself had been dislodged or otherwise damaged. The force of the impact must have been much greater than she remembered.

Kalthara kicked the side of the ship in frustration.

Here she was. Marooned on some dreary dry desert planet that was seemingly populated only by one barely evolved ape and, from the looks of it, tiny lizards while her brother was missing, captured, or  _ dead _ .

(It was more than likely that her brother had escaped, she knew, but Kalthara’s current situation made her feel particularly pessimistic.)

With no tools or parts there was no way she could fix her ship properly. Her engineering skills weren’t terrible. Definitely not as bad as her navigating, piloting, or aiming skills. But she wasn’t an engineer.

Sure she could do basic repairs and recognize what was wrong but she wasn’t sure she could fix it. There was a vague idea in the back of her mind for how to go about fixing some of it. 

Kalthara ignored it. She couldn’t base her thoughts on things she couldn’t place words on.

Climbing up into the cockpit and activating the console, she initiated a diagnostics check before checking to see if her transmitter was still intact.

The Blades had been forced to design and build special transmitters that would emit a one of a kind frequency that only  _ their  _ ships could pick up. Anything else risked drawing attention from all the wrong people. They worked for the most part, thought Kalthara wasn’t sure she could rely on any of her comrades just so happening to pass by the planet she was conveniently stranded on.

She turned it on anyway. Just in case.

After that she just sat in the cockpit chair watching the diagnostics load as everything finally started to sink in. She was stranded. There was nothing she could do about it but try and fix her ship while hoping someone would pick up on her signal before she died and was buried in an unmarked grave on some outback planet in the middle of nowhere space.

Attaining a temporary ally? comrade? cohort? associate? _convenient companion_ had been easy enough. It seemed that for some reason this human feared the others of his kind discovering his association with her, and had agreed to assist her in any way that would fit his definition of ‘reasonable.’ This appeared to include shelter, transportation, and food; as well as general information on the planet's culture and level of technological advance. All Kalthara had to do in return was simply remain out of sight of other humans and avoid any sort of detection until her ship was up and running and she could leave.

Once the deal was struck, she had actually been feeling a bit better about the whole situation though she did not let it show. No reason to allow the human to get too comfortable in the knowledge that he was essential for her continued survival here. 

But then she’d actually critically evaluated the ship and all positive feelings had flown out the window.

Even if the systems programming was intact, it would take her much longer to repair her vessel than she had originally assumed. If at all. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to fix some of it.

A familiar sound alerted her that the diagnostics scan had been completed and Kalthara immediately opened it and scanned the report. Looking out for anything that would be the final nail in her coffin.

This was it. If all of the critical systems were completely shot to hell then there was no getting this craft off the ground and her only means of escape would be irreversibly destroyed.

After what seemed like a grueling amount of time, Kalthara closed the screen and sat back in her chair with a sigh.

“Marmora’s grace.” She muttered as relief washed over her mind.

Everything was still intact program wise. The diagnostics had only managed to find physical damage to the craft. Which in itself was still worrying, but it was easier to deal with than trying to reprogram an entire spacecraft from scratch. Once she had managed to fix all connections and inner workings on the ship it should be space worthy and she’d be able to leave this rock.

There remained just one small issue.

Kalthara shut down the system and crawled out of the cockpit. Carefully maneuvering herself so that there was no undue stress placed on her injured arm.

The moment her feet touched the ground her search began.

The exact details of what had occurred directly after the crash were still fuzzy. She could recall awakening. Osteen had been there as well, having stumbled across her ship during an excursion, and Kalthara could remember the site of the strange creature standing over her through the opening in the cockpit.

Beyond that the details were muddied and confusing.

Which didn’t help in her search for her blade.

Had she had in on her when she had awoken? Had it been thrown from her body when she crashed? Or had the blade fallen from her hip sometime while the human had moved her?

Every time she checked behind a rock only to find that her blade was not there, Kalthara’s sense of dread deepened. This was not a question of need but necessity. It was necessary that she found her blade at all costs. 

The lack of weight on her hip almost made her feel naked and unprotected. Without her blade at her side, Kalthara could only feel more alone and helpless. Almost like a lost child.

The fact that the blade was made of Luxite, a unique and priceless material, did not help matters. If someone else had come along after they had left and found the blade, there wasn’t a guarantee she would be able to retrieve it.

But she  _ had  _ to.

No other blade would do. It had to be  _ that  _ blade. The one she had earned in her trial.

Otherwise she might as well just give up and never bothering going home. The shame of returning without her blade would be too much to bear. Her pride wouldn't be able to take it.

After several minutes of clumsily trying to search through the dirt Kalthara reluctantly gave up. She glared down at her arm in the sling. If she had full use of both of her arms then the search would have been much easier. Kicking at the dirt one last time, she walked away from the ship and back towards the vehicle. 

If she took it easy the injury should heal in around two to three spicolian movements. In that time she’d have to rely on the human for assistance in fixing her ship. She entertained the idea of asking him to help her find her blade but quickly tossed the thought aside. 

There was no way she could trust him with information on such a valuable item. The only reason he was even helping her was because he wanted to avoid trouble with his fellow humans. If he discovered that she had something as valuable as Luxite, he may just change his stance.

Once she got back to the truck she would just play dumb. If he had noticed her digging around she could just make up some story about looking for some inconsequential part to her ship. Or something similarly vague. 

Honestly she could probably claim she was looking for one of the Voltron Lions and the fool would believe her. Just by looking at the man, it was clear he probably wasn’t the best his species had to offer. Still he seemed harmless enough. Or rather weak enough that Kalthara could snap him even with a broken arm therefore neutralizing any possible threat.

Stopping in front of the truck, she stared at the empty space where the human man had previously been. 

“Of course,” she sighed. “He wanders off right when I want to leave.”

Narrowing her eyes she glanced around until she spotted him, atop some rock formation, messing around.

Immediately, Kalthara headed into that direction. Silently reminding herself that it was in her best interest to NOT destroy the only ally she had on this planet.


	7. Chapter 7

He hadn’t expected alien tech to be reasonable. After all scientific advances by an alien race that evolved light years away from earth would have their own subtle nuances and the like. Yet Austin couldn’t make much sense of the pile of shrapnel that lay before him.

It looked, to his eyes, like an inside out solar panel that had been all rolled up.

He kicked it experimentally. The resulting hum on the metal lasted much longer than he was comfortable with. Cautiously, he maneuvered around it until he was peering into the tube.

The inside looked even odder up close. All discs arranged around him like mirrors. Most of them had been shattered but a few remained intact.

A spark drew Austin’s attention.

One of the shattered plates winked at him through the small bit of light in the opening. The tiniest flash, almost like a spark of energy, seemed to be coursing through the glossy disc.

Reaching through the hole, Austin tentatively fingered it. Hoping to budge it some what, feel some kind of warmth, or otherwise prove it was the light playing tricks with his eyes. Instead, he felt a sudden sharp pain.

With a yelp, Austin yanked his arm out of the hole and inspected his hand. A droplet of blood trickled down his finger where something had his hand. Sticking his finger in his mouth, Austin glanced back at the hole and could have sworn he saw the disc soaking up his blood. Like a hard flat vampire.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?!”

Austin screamed and whirled around to find Kalthara looming over him,

“You scream like a small child.”

“Sh-shut up! You snuck up on me!” Squaring his shoulders Austin tried to make himself look bigger. Like a tiny bird against an elephant. “Besides how’d you get up here without me seeing you? Did ya fly up here or something?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I told you not to leave the transport.”

He suppressed a scowl. Austin got the feeling he’d have to get used to suppressing a lot of facial expressions around Kalthara.

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to walk a few yards away from  _ my  _ truck.”

“What are you even doing up here?”

This was it. His time to (metaphorically) shine. Austin had never considered himself a prideful, or even a particularly spiteful, man. But this space woman’s irritating tendency to find everything he was sensitive about had ignited a spark of indignation. 

He’d only known her for a day tops and already he wanted to do or say something that would make her sit up, take notice, and shut up. Not many people had ever truly gotten under Austin’s skin the way she had. Especially in such a short amount of time.

That was probably why he was more snide than he usually would have been.

“Oh nothing. Just digging out this weird piece of metal that is clearly not of this world for shits and giggles.”

Sarcasm was nothing new to Kalthara. She frequently utilized it herself. But it lost it’s charm when used against her. Especially by under evolved apes who should know their place.

“You are aware that I could snap you with but a finger, yes?” Before Austin could respond, she moved past him to get a full look at what it was he’d been messing with.

And froze.

“What is THIS doing here?!”

The altean artifact was fractured, cracked, and torn asunder but still very much recognizable. Kalthara resisted the urge to attack it. Even as it lay there in the dirt mocking her with its very presence.

The only explanation was that it had somehow broken off from Kolivan’s craft and wrapped around her own following her into orbit. But the chances of such an accident occurring were astronomically high. Let alone that it would end up so close to her craft upon landing. Yet there was no other explanation. At least none that were within the realms of non-fiction.

Investigations into the probability of Kolivan’s pet project ending up on this rock with her would have to wait. Right now she had more important things to worry about.

“Ya mean it ain’t yours?”

Speaking of things to worry about…

Austin was giving her a look of confusion as he gestured to the machine.

“Of course not. The technology is completely different from mine.” She spoke matter of factly.

He could contain the snort anymore. “Right because it’s unreasonable to assume the piece of alien space metal belongs to the alien lady.”

Kalthara’s subconscious brain immediately attempted to send a message to the rest of her body that it’d be great to punch the tiny ape and re-assert some dominance. Thankfully her conscious mind cut in to remind her subconscious that they  _ needed  _ Austin and he’d be a lot less willing to help her out if she went around punching him for every snide comment. There was also a tiny bit of input from her moral center about how punching lesser undeveloped weak lifeforms was wrong but Kalthara prefered to pretend that it wasn’t there.

Instead, she began to dig out around the crashed artifact. Hoping to loosen the dirts hold on it.

“If it ain’t yers then why are ya diggin it out?”

Ignoring him, she continued. He sighed and, judging from the sound of boots scraping against rock, left. Well that was fine by her. If he had no intention of helping then his presence was only a hinderance.

That, of course, was entirely different from saying assitance would not be welcome. Trying to dig with one arm was proving to be an almost impossible task. Every time Kalthara scooped a large handful of dirt out of the way, more seemed to slide back into place.

Several minutes of work bore out little results as all of her progress essentially amounted to nothing. At such a rate it would take Kalthara forever to dig out even a portion of the artifact barehanded.

Kalthara’s ears twitched at the sound of scraping metal. She turned around just in time to see something being thrown over the side of the rock formation and clatter to the ground. Followed by the struggling figure of Austin, who rolled on his back one he’d made it over the ledge.

“Oh man… I am… out of shape.” He said breathlessly.

She stared at him. She hadn’t expected him to come back.

Eyeing the tool he had flung over the ledge she cautiously asked. “What… is that?”

Instead of getting up, Austin tipped his head backwards to give her an unamused look.

“Are ya trying to tell me you don’t have  _ shovels  _ in space?”

“O-of course we do!” No matter what anyone said, she was NOT flushing in embarrassment. “I-I mean why would you bring it here?”

“To dig out the thing?”

There was a pause.

Kalthara took a deep breath and said, slowly this time, “I mean to ask why you would bring  _ me  _ a shovel?”

Austin continued to look at her. This time with an expression of bewildered confusion. He did not appear to understand the question. Almost as though their minor spat had never occurred and Kalthara hadn’t just threatened him with cartoonish violence.

This was not at all what she was used to. Usually when she got into arguments, even small ones, her peers would leave her alone. It was preferable to awkwardly talking it out, she supposed.

Or that is what she assumed.

No one had ever asked her.

Picking up the shovel, she began to awkwardly scoop the dirt out of the way. It was much more effective than doing it barehanded. But with only one arm free it was still something of a struggle.

“Uhm,” Austin awkwardly hovered nearby. “You, uh, you want me to do it?”

Kalthara firmly pressed her lips together and ignored him.

“I mean… Ya do have a broken arm.” He licked his dry lips. “It’d probably be best if we did it together. But I only have the one shovel. So y’know…”

He trailed off as a free flying shovel full of dirt barely missed him.

Staring at the gravel he decided it might be best to let the alien women do as she pleased. Still, it was no reason for him to remain idle.

Clapping his hands he awkwardly announced. “Well this is probably gonna take awhile so I’m just gonna go make sure I still have enough supplies in the truck. Water. Dried food. Sunscreen. The works.”

Awkwardly he wandered over to the ledge and waited for a response that never came.

Clicking his tongue he muttered, “Okay then.”

For the second time that day Austin made his way down the rocky outcropping and headed for his truck. Though he was happy that he likely wouldn’t have to climb back up immediately. At least not while awkwardly carrying a shovel.

He hadn’t really been expecting much. It wasn’t like he really thought she’d prostrate herself in gratitude, bowing, and swearing to him her first born child. But a simple thank you wasn’t too much to ask was it? 

Even just a nod of acknowledgement would have been satisfactory.

Though the fact that she hadn’t thanked him should not have been too surprising. Austin already knew that their shaky alliance had been born out of necessity more than anything else. Yet that didn’t really explain her attitude.

Afterall she was the one who had tried to kill him. Not the other way around. So it didn’t make sense to be so guarded with him. Besides even with a broken arm she was clearly stronger than he was.

Austin could still remember the way she’d moved that night. Injured, delirious, and yet still having enough control of herself to launch an attack on a perceived enemy. How much of it was skill and how much was whatever the alien equivalent of adrenaline was, he couldn’t say. But he knew one thing for sure.

If the shock of the crash combined with her injuries hadn’t rendered Kalthara unconscious. She could have killed him. Hell, she WOULD have killed him.

That wasn’t the attitude of some random space traveler. No matter what aliens were like, most creatures didn’t kill in such a slick style naturally. That was something that required training and experience to properly pull off.

Her excuse for her presence wasn’t all that great either.

_ Sightseeing _ . Right. Because that wasn’t an excuse they had here on earth. 

She’d lied to him about her presence. That alone was alarming. But the fact that she hadn’t killed him yet was even more alarming.

Afterall if she had just killed him first chance she got, that would have made things a bit more obvious. Alien Invaders probably didn’t give a hoot about killing people. Especially not random clearly alone unarmed humans in the middle of nowhere. But since she hadn’t…

It did not rule out the idea of her being here as some kind of spy or scout for an invasion force. But in that case she would have made a much greater effort to learn more about earth. Sure she’d made fun of Austin’s equipment but that was hardly a sign of the planet’s fighting force. Even an alien would have had to know that. 

Austin huffed as he opened the bed of his truck.

All of this thinking was getting too complicated for him. There wasn’t even any guarantee that human logic would apply to an alien lifeform. For all he knew Kalthara’s behavior was considered downright friendly by the standards of her people.

_ Nothing you can do about it now. _ He reminded himself.  _ Just check out the supplies and leave it at that. _

Busying himself with the chore Austin mentally categorized all of the items in his trunk. 

There was enough water in the old gasoline container he used for the two of them. At least presumably. He had little idea if Kalthara even drank water.

He was sure he’d seen a movie once as a kid where water was like acid to the aliens. Of course that was hollywood and this was real life. Where rude women with fuzzy ears threatened him with strong fingers.

The generator seemed to still be hangin in there despite years of use. His telescope was still carefully packed away like it had been on that fateful night. 

The camping stove, folding chair and table, as well as the kettle and thermos were all packed away in their own little corner. Just in the right place to access when he needed a nice hot drink on those cold nights in the desert.

A walking stick sat in the backseat of the truck along with 

Austin glanced back at the outcropping. Undoubtedly she was still at it. He moved on to the smaller items he kept in his knapsack.

Dried food bits, sunscreen, a first aid kit (which was down some gauze thanks to Kalthara), a wool blanket, a small flashlight, a thermos, a well worn camping knife, a box of matches, a compass and a map marked with stargazing locations. The last thing he removed from the bag was a small pill bottle.

He raised an eyebrow at the bottle and thought reflectively. So much had happened the previous day and through the night that he had almost forgotten his daily dosage. But it hadn’t been  _ that  _ long since he’d taken his last dose. At least he didn’t think so.

If he wasn’t careful the doctor would get on his case again. That kind of stress was the last thing he needed. 

Pouring the correct dosage into his hand, Austin swallowed it. Screwing the cap back on he stashed his medicine back into his sack. He’d have to remember to hide them when he got back home. He couldn’t have Kalthara messing with it.

Suddenly a sound like a car crashing made Austin nearly fall out of his truck. He looked back at the outcropping to see a very familiar piece of metal tumbling down the cliff. As well as a familiar figure staring satisfactory down at the crash.

Austin sighed and scratched his scalp in irritation.

“What was even the point of me giving her that shovel?” he asked no one in particular. Then in a mock tone, “Here’s a shovel to dig your creepy alien vampire shit out with. Not like yer gonna  _ push it off a cliff _ or nuthin.”

* * *

 

Kalthara stared down breathlessly as the altean artifact tumbled to the bottom of the cliff. She didn’t worry about there being too much damage done. If the thing could resist entering the atmosphere without falling apart then a tiny tumble down a cliff was nothing.

She’d realized rather quickly that she didn’t need to dig out all around the machine. She only needed to dig out one side of it at just the right angle to make pushing it out of the ground possible. The fact that it had rolled far enough to fall off the end of the outcropping wasn’t planned but nonetheless solved the issue of getting it off the top of the cliff without getting crushed.

Peering over the edge, Kalthara judged the distance before backing up and taking a running start. Leaping from the ledge, she bounced off from a small ledge to another, before landing onto the ground below. Unfortunately she stumbled and almost tripped.

Cursing, she resumed her balance and glared at the sling. She’d have stuck that landing if her arm had been free. Looking at the truck, she hoped Austin hadn’t seen her stumble. It would not do to look foolish in front of him. Not at this time.

However, her worry soon turned into irritation as she saw that, once more, the human man had disappeared from his place by the transport. Glancing about, she realized that there was only one place he could have gone.

Angrily Kalthara circled around the outcropping towards her crashed ship to see Austin placing both his hands on the metal siding. She paused as she saw the expression on his face.

A massive grin had replaced his rather sarcastic half smile. His back was straighter and more alert. Even his movements seemed more energetic.

However, it was his eyes that gave her a reason to pause.

Kalthara liked to think she could be a keep observer. The problem was that she tended to notice things without really noticing them. Only realizing what it was she had seen much later.

Austin’s eyes were naturally dark with white sclera. Something that set his eyes apart from her yellow ones. She had thought the rather cold and lifeless look in his eyes had just been her own inflection given his dull alien design. But now…

Now his eyes were bright. The color and design had not changed. Nor were his eyes suddenly luminous in the shadow of the outcropping. It was the way that a spark of life seemed to have suddenly appeared that seemed to make them seem somehow different.

But that was silly. A persons eyes did not change. At least not in the ways her subconscious was trying to communicate to her.

Shaking the thoughts from her head she made her way over to the man. She stood there awkwardly for a moment wondering how best to announce her presence when Austin seemed to catch sight of her.

The look on his face reminded her of the time when she had caught her brother sneaking extra provisions from the kitchen when they were children. A mix of frozen shock, guilt, and fear. It was almost funny how similar the expression was.

Austin immediately pulled his hands off of the metal, and backed away.

“Uhm… I uh… I was just…”

She could only describe it as a whim that made her throw the poor man a bone.

“Seeing what might be the best way to move the ship to a more hidden location?”

Austin stared at her, mouth agape, before taking up the bone like a dutiful dog.

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I uh, I just wanted to see if there was an easy way to move it. Yeah.”

He gave an awkward laugh and rubbed his hands together. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, he began again.

“We, uh, we should probably move this.” he then quickly added. “You can see it from the sky.”

Kalthara raised an eyebrow. “You humans can fly?”

Austin paused for a moment before giving an amused “Uh, no we have machines for that.”

“That is what I meant.”

“Oh.”

Looking about her she asked, “Do you know where we can hide it?”

Austin paused for a moment. “I… might. There are an area near here with a ton of old caves. I’ve been over there with my telescope before. Some of ‘em might be big enough to park your ship in. Better yet, most folks avoid the area”

“And why is that? Is it a dangerous area?”

“That… depends on what you mean by dangerous.” Austin answered carefully. “Instruments tend to go wacky around there. Lots of theories about it. Probably some kinda magnetism in the rocks or something.”

Looking at her ship, Kalthara wondered if she could manage to get it working enough to move across the landscape to the area mentioned. And even then, would the magnetism mentioned make her ship’s dysfunctions worse?

But that was a risk she would have to take. Austin seemed to think that other humans would not react well to seeing her ship, and she was going to have to trust his judgement. It was the whole reason she’d formed this alliance after all.

“I will attempt to see if I can move it.” Kalthara began trying to climb up the side of the ship.

“Move it? Ya mean… yer gonna pilot it? Like, right now?” 

She paused.

There it was again. That odd change. His voice was essentially the same, but his voice had still changed somehow. It was odd. She ignored it.

“That is typically what one means when they intend to move a craft, yes.”

“Oh r-right.” He shuffled his feet. “You uh… You need me to show ya where to go in my truck?”

As she climbed into the cockpit, Kalthara gave Austin a look.

It was the kind of look that said, “The answer to that question is so obvious I am not even going to waste oxygen explaining how obvious it is.”

He watched as she fiddled with some kind of controls. Sometimes even seeing to poke the thin air before-

Air rushed out from the machine from vents that opened from underneath. Austin had to raise his arms to his face and close his eyes to keep the dirt and sand from blinding him. As the clouds of sand settled, he carefully opened his eyes.

And gaped at the now hovering aircraft that sat suspended in the air before him.

The cockpit door opened and Kalthara poked her head out. Ears twitched in irritation at all the dirt in the air. She spoke, and although her voice was drowned out by the engine, he could still make out the words. Probably because she was screaming.

“IS IT LEVITATING?!” Was the gist of what he understood.

Austin wasn’t certain his own deep voice could be heard over the noise. Even if it could, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. So instead he soundless nodded. It got the message across.

“ALRIGHT. GET IN YOUR TRANSPORT AND SHOW ME THE WAY!” With that she disappeared from view and closed the cockpit door.

It wasn’t until after Austin had climbed behind the steering wheel, and was halfway across the desert with an alien craft following him that he realized that, along with never saying thank you, Kalthara didn’t seem to know how to properly say please.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah uh.... this chapter took me awhile to write.  
> Mostly through a lack of time, energy, and inspiration. Plus I got kind of... distracted, when season 3 came out.  
> But yeah here's the newest chapter, with more to come if all goes well!

The caves were larger and deeper than Kalthara had expected. It was almost too easy to hide her ship away in one of the more remote caverns. Well… perhaps  _ ‘easy’  _ wasn’t the correct term.

Austin had been right about the areas effects on electronics. She’d noticed the issues when she’d first looked at the ship, but at the time she’d written it off as being caused by some kind of damage to the inner console. But once her ship proved to be working enough to take off it was clear that something external was interfering with her instruments.

She wondered if it was a result of this area's  _ effect  _ or the planet’s whole magnetic field. The interference was striking. Strong enough to match the energy fields from a tiny planet. Yet Kalthara was certain that her proximity to this area had worsened the effect on her instruments.

_ Forget it. _ She reprimanded herself.  _ There are more important things to worry about. _

Mainly what their next move should be. Her ship was now hidden from the prying eyes of other humans, but they had left the artifact at the outcropping. In hindsight, she probably should have instructed Austin to find room on his transport and bring the thing along for safe keeping. As it was now they were going to have to make two trips.

That being said, it may have been a blessing in disguise.

The caverns were numerous and came in many shapes and sizes. Some, like the one she had hidden her ship in, were quite large and roomy. Only narrowing out as they went deeper. Others were so small that Kalthara was certain only a very small creature could just manage to squeeze inside before either coming out in some larger opening or becoming wedged and trapped in an even tinier space.

Before they could hide the artifact, it was ideal to search the caves and find one that could fit the large altean machine. It had taken them far too long to find one to house her ship, and it wouldn’t do to take any longer on this task than necessary. Every passing tic was a fresh opportunity for some outsider to stumble across their little secret.

Austin didn’t appear to understand that, seeing how he was lingering around the caves and staring at the walls with an intense interest.

Kalthara allowed herself a moment of annoyance. Trying to keep that man on task was like herding cattle. Apparently one had to remain ever diligent to get even one iota of production out of a human.

She slid down the side of her ship and landed hard on her feet. Making a point to ignore the prickling sensation that shot through her legs as she did so. Striding over to where Austin was scratching on the wall with his eyes narrowed, she waited until he seemed to be entirely absorbed in his task before speaking.

“What are you doing  _ now _ ?” Kalthara asked in the most exasperated voice she could muster.

The effect gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

Austin nearly jumped out of his own skin in surprise as he whirled around to look at her. 

“Do you have pads on yer feet or somethin?! You’re seven feet tall, you shouldn’t be able to scare me like that!”

She drank in his expression before replying, “Perhaps you just need to pay more attention instead of being distracted by a  _ wall _ .”

“It ain’t the wall!” Austin growled in irritation. “It’s what’s ON the wall. Bunch of drawings and stuff.”

Kalthara’s ear twitched in annoyance. “Drawings? But I thought you said no one came around here anymore! Do you mean to tell me that that is untrue?”

Her entire body bristled with subdued anger. If she had to move her ship again because of this fool of a creature had misled her, or if he had  _ tricked  _ her, then Kalthara felt sure she’d be better off just cutting her losses and killing him before he could do any further damage. A part of her felt tempted just to do it anyway to save herself any further irritation.

“Of course it was true! These drawings ain’t new, they must’ve been made by some people who lived here a long long time ago.” Austin turned back to the pictures and scrapped his nail against the rock. “It’s old but I can just make it out…”

“You do not mean to seriously waste my time with this, do you? Need I remind you that the altean artifact remains where we left it? Do you seriously want some other human to find it?”

“Look will ya just be patient? Not many people come this far out into the desert this time of the day anyway.”

“That only means that it is an opportune time to act.”

“Lady, do you wanna get heatstroke? Cause last I checked walkin around in the middle of the desert at the hottest part of the day in skin-tight black clothing is how you get heatstroke.”

Her yellow eyes narrowed, fixated on Austin, and didn’t blink. They remained that way as he stared back at her. Both of them still as statues. 

Kalthara had never lost a war of willpower. Not once since she had passed her trial had anyone, friend or foe managed to deter her gaze.

So it came as no surprise when Austin sighed and turned away.

“Fine.” He put his hands up in the air in surrender. “There should be enough room in this cavern for ALL of your freaky space shit.”

She said nothing in response. Not even bothering to correct his mispronunciation of the word ‘ship’ or his improper grammar. Though it was awfully tempting to do so.

* * *

 

It was to his credit, Austin felt, that he didn’t drive the truck straight off of a cliff killing them both just to be rid of his infuriating… guest?

Honestly, he had no idea WHAT to call Kalthara at this point. Partner seemed like a gratuitous term to give to someone who belittled you every little step of the way. Friend was definitely out of left field. The term acquaintance hardly applied in this scenario.

Even ‘enemy’ was looking a bit weak at this point.

_ It’s only for a little bit. _ He reminded himself. Just until her ship is fixed.  _ Then things can go back to the way they were before. _

If he were being honest ‘before’ wasn’t nearly as desirable as his current mindset made it out to be. Comparatively speaking though, being alone in the desert seemed favorable over having all of his personal decisions overruled by Kalthara. Honestly with the way she micromanaged everything Austin wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be some alien hive queen or something. Lord knows she  _ acted  _ like it.

Thankfully the mirror-tube (he refused to call such a shiny futuristic looking device an artifact) was exactly where they had left it. With no footprints or conveniently dropped items to indicate that anyone other than themselves had been there.

Shocker.

He couldn’t see much point in being her guide if she wasn’t going to take his word on things like this. It wasn’t like he’d been living in this desert or three years or anything.

Thankfully hauling the tube to the top of the truck, tying it down, and lugging it all the way back to the caves left little time for either of them to say something to further irritate the other. Especially since the tube had taken up all the room in the back, forcing Kalthara to climb onto the top and cling to the ropes for dear life as Austin drove.

It was an admittedly funny sight to see in the rearview mirror. She sat awkwardly on the top, her one free arm wrapped around a loose hanging rope. Her normally controlled and domineering face struggling to stay stoic as they rattled along.

This ride was clearly not one she was enjoying, and every time the truck went over an uneven patch of earth her mouth would open and he could practically hear her yelp in surprise. Normally he’d feel bad for someone in a position like hers. But she’d shot him down when he’d suggested driving the machine to the cave himself and just picking her up on his way back.

Austin wasn’t really an unkind man. Far from a saint, but certainly not a cruel sadist.

As a result, he  _ tried  _ avoiding all of the needless bumps along the way. And in fact, he did avoid most of them. Not ALL, but most.

He only realized that he probably should have tried harder to avoid a few more of them when, once the truck came to a stop, the mirror tube flew off of the roof of the truck and onto the dirt (in what could only be called a needlessly violent manner). Followed by Kalthara who jumped off the roof and kicked the inoffensive object into the cave violently before following after it.

A cursory glance over her stance and the way she moved told Austin that this time  _ staying  _ in the truck was an ideal course of action. At least if he didn’t want to die in the next few minutes.

When Kalthara eventually emerged a few minutes later with something tucked under her arm, Austin chose not to comment. Instead, he waited quietly for her to climb into the bed of the truck before starting the engine. Praying it wouldn’t stall.

Thankfully, it seemed the old engine was about as ready to upset the alien woman as Austin was because, for once, it started up without trouble and carried them away.

* * *

 

“What do you eat?”

Kalthara’s ears twitched at the question but pretended she didn’t hear.

“I mean… ya look kinda like a cat so does that mean you only eat meat?” Austin paused before adding. “Do ya even drink water? Saw a movie once where water was like acid to aliens. It was dumb as hell, but I ain’t a biologist soooo….”

She replied with silence.

“Well if ya only eat meat then yer plum outta luck. All I have is jerky and some chicken strips. Everything else is either dried fruit, nuts, or oats. Course I also have eggs. Can you eat eggs?”

Twisting the tool (screwdriver it was called) she continued to inspect the scrap she had taken from the altean machine. All while pointedly ignoring the abhorrent distraction.

Austin sighed.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment? Do women do that in space too?”

With one hand guiding it against the table the screwdriver somehow found its way under the cracked disc.

“Look, if this is about hitting all those bumps with the truck… Well I mean I was off-roading, it ain’t like I have full control out there.”

Kalthara slowly, and purposely twisted the screw head.

“Besides it wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d just trusted me to come back and pick you up! I mean how hard is that? All you had to do was sit in the shade of the outcropping for a little bit while I dumped the thing into the cave.” His voice shifted to a scolding tone. “You shouldn’t even be doing all this shit anyway. You have a broken arm! I don’t care what your immune system is like, exerting yourself while injured is a textbook example of a dumb idea.”

The disc budged from its mount on the metal frame but held firm against the force of her hand.

“On that note, ya really should eat somethin. Ya don’t even have to tell me anythin else about yourself. Just give me an idea of what you can and can’t eat!”

Kalthara added more force under the disc, concentrating harder and harder on getting it out.

“Y’know what?! FINE. Eat whatever ya want! Don’t come cryin to me when the blueberries make yer head explode!”

The sound of the door slamming combined with the disc shattering, shards flying across the table. Kalthara growled and tossed the screwdriver to the side and glanced behind her to see if Austin was truly gone. The sight of an empty shack answered her question.

Humphing, she began to gather up the shattered pieces. Perhaps now she’d finally be able to get some work done without the inane buzz of silly questions in her ears. 

Once she had all of the pieces gathered up, she picked one up and held it up to the light streaming through the nearby window. It was not, as she had previously thought, glass. She wasn’t sure  _ what  _ it was.

It was crystalline. Sort of. Clear and translucent, it shone in the light like a prism but reflected it at an angle across the room like a mirror. Or rather the light did not simply deflect but rather seemed to be absorbed and trapped within the confines of the disc. 

“Interesting.” 

She turned it over in her fingers and watched as the light it reflected moved across the wall. Removing it from the direct sunlight, Kalthara cupped the shard in her hands and peeked at it, watching as it took on the faintest glow.

Research and experimentation were not part of her forte. She was much more suited to examining armed units than she was lost technology. But all the same, if pressed to explain what it was she was observing, she’d have said that it looked like the material was actually absorbing and processing energy.

The glow faded, telling Kalthara that the small bit of energy it had gotten from the sunlight had been used up quickly. Yet, even so, there remained something there. It was tiny, just barely a twinkle, but it was  _ there _ .

Setting the shard back onto the table, she sat and stared at it.

“What in Marmora’s name were you used for?” Her hushed voice rang hollow and unheard against the walls of the shack. But the question still lingered in her mind.

The machine it had come from had been too complex to merely be some type of lighting device. Perhaps it was some type of laser weapon? Or perhaps some light based energy engine?

Sighing, she rubbed her temples in frustration. When she was in space the device had done… something. She hadn’t been able to tell what. One moment she was being fired at by space pirates with her brother, and the next she had crashed landed on this primitive planet.

It HAD to be a weapon of some kind, to cause such destruction. But in that case, how did it work? Could she somehow repair it and use it to her own advantage? Could she repurpose the way it stored and released energy to power her own ship?

There was no way of knowing.

An experienced mechanic might have been able to tell her, but as it was there was no such information on hand. Glancing at the primitive machinery Austin kept around his home, Kalthara grimaced. There certainly wouldn’t be anyone to answer her questions within the immediate quadrant that was for sure.

It was all so  _ frustrating _ .

Never before had she realized just how reliant she was on the blades information base. How much of her near escapes in the past was attributed to being able to contact her comrades, or at the very least having usable technology on hand. There was nothing like that out here.

Just dirt, technology she couldn’t or didn’t know how to use, and a man who couldn’t keep his mind on track for more than five ticks.

Whatever docking bay may have existed on this planet likely didn’t have a direct line to the central empire, let alone one to the quadrant where the Blade of Marmora were based. Even if she managed to escape this rock, it could take her YEARS to determine where she was in the cosmos and charting a way home.

The already depressing thoughts were not helped by the rumbling in her belly, the tiredness in her limbs, or the dirt and sweat that clung to her skin. 

Kalthara found her eyes wandering over to the corner of the shack where Austin’s makeshift fort still lay in pieces on the ground. She had recalled seeing him sift through it for supplies earlier. He’d withdrawn some kind of packet and later had had a steaming bowl in his hand.

Crawling across the floor towards the mess, she carefully made sure to keep the door in her peripheral vision (lest Austin walk in and grow smug about being proven right about her need for food) as she sorted through the pile to find something, anything, that looked edible. What she found amounted to the kind of stash a small rodent would hide in a hole in the ground.

As Austin had said it was mostly just berries, nuts, and some kind of packets. The “meat” was dried and stringy and smelled odd. Kalthara wasn’t even sure it actually  _ was  _ meat. It could be something else with just a similar name.

The assortment of foods did help solidify a few things for her though. From the looks of things humans, seemed to be hunting-gathering society. There was no sign in the shack of anything like an artificial preservation machine or anything else she could recognize as being customary in a kitchen.

Truly she was living outside of civilized society.

But food was food and this was survival.

She purposely passed over the nuts and berries. There was no telling where Austin had thrown them before, and although she was almost certain the blueberry comment was sarcasm, it was safer to pass them up until she was sure.

That only left the weird smelling meat and the packets.

Eyeing both, she eventually reached over and took one of the packets, inspecting it closely. It seemed to be made of some fiber based material with what she assumed to be an earth language printed on it. Sniffing it, she tore the packet open and watched the contents pour out onto the floor.

Kalthara frowned at the pile of lumpy oats that was now scattered on the floor. It didn’t  _ look  _ like enough to properly feed someone. Course, perhaps it was like the nutrient packets that the blades frequently kept in case of emergencies. One packet was chocked full of enough nutrients to keep a scout going for days.

Scooping some back up into her palm, she gave the stuff one last experimental sniff before carefully taking in a small mouthful. Her teeth tried to work through the crunchy meal, but struggled as the dried grains repeatedly stuck to her tongue and made eating the whole mouthful much more difficult than it needed to be. Finally, she swallowed and grimaced.

It wasn’t, on the whole, tasteless. Just dry, crunchy, and not particularly enjoyable to the tongue. Also most definitely not filling given the way Kalthara’s stomach continued to growl for food.

Sweeping away the leftover oats with her hand, she decided it’d be best to forage for herself when she got the chance. It was clear that whatever Austin subsisted off of, wasn’t anything she would be interested in eating. Human taste buds were obviously malformed or otherwise nonexistent.

Ignoring the protests of her stomach, Kalthara took a moment to explore the shack. 

Which on an initial sweep took all of a half a minute.

Then she decided that it might pay to be a bit more thorough and did a second, and much more detailed, analysis.

It really was a very small dwelling. In fact, Kalthara was tempted to argue that the word “dwelling” might not even apply in this context. It felt more like a recycled storage unit than anything else. She’d seen lavatories with more elbow room than this.

However, it still contained a few basic amenities.

There was a table and the long cushioned furniture she had lain on. A collection of square machinery in the far corner that looked designed for food preparation (but given the options she had for food she somehow doubted this.) Another shelf was filled to the brim with boxes with dials and wires hanging out. Turning one of the dials only gave her static, but she momentarily wondered if she could repurpose the machine for use in her spacecraft. Books lay piled up in a corner, but as they were in an earthen language, they were completely useless to Kalthara.

That was all that was visible in the room from what she could see. Personal effects like clothes were nowhere to be seen, making Kalthara wonder if Austin just wore the same thing all the time.

Her eyes scanned the room for anything she might have missed. Finally resting on a corner of the ceilings where, when she narrowed her eyes, a panel appeared to visible. Moving to a position just beneath the panel. Kalthara reached her long arm overhead and pushed at it. It budged slightly but otherwise didn’t give way. Frowning, she tried knocking on it but that didn’t do anything either. Perhaps it was voice activated?

“Open” she spoke in a clear commanding voice.

Nothing.

Kalthara clicked her tongue in irritation and looked around to try and find an access pad or something. When one did not appear to be readily apparent she glared at the offensive panel, wondering what exactly it was that Austin was hiding behind there. It could be anything ranging from a simple storage area to something far more sinister. 

There was an excellent chance that whatever was up there had nothing at all to concern with Kalthara or her problems. But the paranoia of the slightest chance that it MIGHT concern her was enough for her to search through the room for anything that could be a cleverly hidden secret button or something.

“What are ya doin?” Austin’s incredulous voice drifted in through the newly open door.

It was enough for Kalthara to nearly drop the lamp she was checking under.

He walked in and immediately took note of everything that had been moved or discarded. Especially the pile of dried oatmeal that lay scattered on the floor. With some amusement, if the upturned corners of his mouth were anything to go by.

Caught in the act, Kalthara was at a loss for what to say. Dare she admit her own curiosity? Faintly she wondered if she could play it all off somehow before Austin spoke again.

“Look yer clearly hungry, so why don’tcha let me cook for you?” He paused before continuing. “Well  _ cook  _ would be kinda a gratuitous term for instant oatmeal but still it’s gotta be better than eating dirt and bugs.” 

Kalthara slowly and carefully placed the lamp back onto the nearby coffee table and thanked her lucky stars that Austin hadn’t picked up on her snooping.

* * *

 

She’d been snooping.

It was so  _ obvious  _ that she’d been snooping that Austin almost found it cute.  _ Almost _ , as was frequently becoming habit, was the keyword.

As he stood over the old stove heating up the water and pouring in the oats, his mind kept drifting to the loose set of boards under which Kalthara’s alien knife lay wrapped up in the rag Austin used to clean his exhaust pipe. He was almost certain that was what she’d really been looking for though food had likely also been on her mind.

Now that they were back at the house, the blade’s resurgence terrified him. He could still remember how the light of the moon and stars had glinted off the metal. How, even in the dark, it emanated an otherworldly glow. Just the sight of it had given him chills.

It was so strange. He’d never had any issues with blades before. Hell, his own military issued knife had saved him hundreds of times in the airforce.

But this one was different.

It wasn’t just that it glowed, was alien, and had been used to almost kill him. It was the sheer  _ age  _ of the thing.

The blade looked sharp and lacked any notches. Its surface had that sheen that only blades fresh from the heat were supposed to have. Even the hilt looked brand new.

Yet there was this feeling of oldness to it. As though this was a knife that had seen things. Most of them bloody and ending with someone very very dead.

It was a blade for people that knew  _ exactly _ what a blade was made for.

And that terrified him.

Kalthara hovered just a few feet from Austin trying very hard not to be seen looking over his shoulder. Every time he glanced in her direction, there'd be a streak, and then she'd seem to be standing casually on the other side of the room in complete indifference. But once he focused back onto the pot she was behind him again. He could feel it.

Austin briefly wondered if this was what it was like to own a cat.

Normally, Austin tossed things like cinnamon or brown sugar into his oatmeal. Maybe some dried fruit or even nuts for flavor. This time he decided not to.

For one he didn't need his strange house guest thinking he was poisoning her. It was only now occurring to him that his comment about blueberries may have been unwise given how unfamiliar she was with earth food.

Besides Austin couldn't see why he should expound so much extra effort for someone so ungrateful. After all, she  _ was _ staying in his house. A little bit of courtesy was to be expected.

“What is that smell?” Kalthara’s voice was in his ear. But when he turned his head she was standing on the far side of the room.

“That's the food?”

“Why does it smell different?”

“Cause it's cooked?” He offered.

Kalthara didn't look satisfied.

“Look,” Austin took the pot off the stove and poured its contents into a ready bowl. “I ain't got the kind of experience to explain  _ why _ cooked stuff smells different. It just  _ does _ .”

He thrust the bowl and spoon under her nose and held them there until she took them.

“Now eat.”

She stared at the things in her hands, or more specifically, the spoon. After a few moments, she gingerly ran her finger over the smooth rounded tip. Frowning, she gave Austin a suspicious look.

“Why does this utensil lack its notches?”

“It's… what?”

“It's notches. There are supposed to be small slits at the top that allow you to skewer harder bits of food.”

Austin stared at her.

“Are you… talkin about forks?”

“No. I am referring to food utensils. Of which there is only one.”

A moment passed before he sighed and went back to the kitchen. Returning with a box of silverware.

“Okay. I'm not playin any more charades. Which of these is the closest thing to what yer talkin about.”

Kalthara peered inside and shook her head.

“None of these are exactly like what I mean.”

She paused before reaching into the drawer and taking out a fork.

“Food utensils look like  _ this _ .”

She held up the spoon.

“Spliced with  _ this _ .”

Austin stared.

“You can't be talking about sporks. You can't be.”

“What are sporks? Is that what you call food utensils on this world?”

He stared at her and sighed.

“Just use whichever yer most comfortable using. I'm going upstairs.”

“Up...stairs?”

Kalthara held the bowl of oatmeal as Austin crossed the room to where the panel was. Reaching up he grabbed a handle and pulled.

The panel moved.

A set of stairs folded out from the ceiling and settled into the floor. Austin scurried up the stairs and into the loft satisfied with the way Kalthara's mouth hung open.


	9. Chapter 9

The oatmeal was actually quite good. Of course Kalthara wasn’t sure she was a proper authority on this kind of thing.

It wasn’t that galra didn’t have a sense of taste but rather that, culinarily speaking, they weren’t exactly modern masters.

Over the centuries of being conquerors the galran culture had dwindled to what was considered ‘strictly necessary’. Many of the old ways that had been considered too frivolous or otherwise unnecessary had been abandoned and long forgotten.

Music, cuisine, dance; anything that didn’t directly assist the war effort was slowly and purposefully left to the sands of time. As a result her people had been left with none of the old things to remind them of the old ways.

The blades had their writings and records. But with planet Daibazaal long destroyed there was no hope of revitalizing any of the old things since all that had made them up had disappeared along with their home.

There were now none who had first hand memories of what the galra had been.

None but the emperor, that is.

Kalthara couldn’t claim to hate Emperor Zarkon anymore than a person could really hate a force of nature or a disease. The empire's leader was simply some great power that opposed the blades and their generation spanning struggle. Once she couldn’t quite see them ever overcoming.

She poked the earthen concoction absentmindedly and glanced at the opening in the ceiling. Now that she could see clearly how it functioned the mechanism was exceptionally simple.

There was a hidden latch in the ceiling that one merely had to push up to undo. From there the stairs would fold out, allowing entry to the upper level. So simple it was infuriating.

Why did he even require a second level? From what she had seen Austin lived alone out here, surrounded on all sides by desert. Was the second level a lookout or just some storage area?

Her curiosity pushed her to stand on the stair and poke her head through the opening to get a look.

If possible, this room was even smaller than the main floor. The ceiling was lower and slanted inconveniently toward the floor. There was only one window, making this areas use as a lookout nearly nonexistent.

There were flimsy containers piled in corners, and a small rectangular thing piled with blankets and pillows. Likely a cot of some kind. On the ceiling some fan like contraption moved in circular motions, moving the air around it and creating a cooling effect.

As her eyes scanned the area she caught sight of Austin. He sat facing away from her and digging through one of the containers that were strewn around the room.

Kalthara hunched down below the frame of the opening just enough to keep Austin visible but low enough that she could duck under if she even thought he was going to turn around.

He pulled out some flimsy piece of cloth from a box, looked it over, but then tossed it aside with a dismissive remark. Kal glanced at the thing and realized, through the dim light, that it was an article of clothing. Carefully, and making sure not to raise alarm, Kalthara rached her arm through the hole and dug the cloth towards her for closer inspection.

It didn’t appear to be any form of armor. In fact, if she was any judge, the piece was flimsy and seemed to provide little to no protection at all. Not even from the elements. A cursory sniff of the garment almost made her gag and prompted her to toss it to the side and breath through her mouth for awhile.

If the garments intent was to defend its wearer by giving off a foul stench, it was certainly potent.

“Y’know some people would consider that rude.”

Kalthara froze and looked back at Austin.

He still hadn’t turned around.

“Look, if ya don’t like stuff that smells, there's an outdoor shower out back. Lord knows you don't smell like a patch of fresh posies yourself. Try not to use all the water and be careful with yer arm.”

Kalthara grit her teeth.

“How did you know I was here?”

“You’ve been snooping around my house  _ all day _ . Call it a shot in the dark.”

There was a pause.

“It’s a turn of-”

“I KNOW it is a turn of phrase. I could glean that from the context!” Kalthara growled as she abandoned the human to whatever menial chore he was busying himself with and exited the dwelling.

The outdoor air was a bit of a relief after the stuffiness of the shack. There was a lingering day time warmth that clung to the wind even as the planet rotated slowly towards a nighttime cycle. Honestly, if she were of a more sentimental turn of mind, Kalthara would have called the slowly setting sun beautiful.

Turning away, Kalthara searched out the ‘shower’ Austin had mentioned. A quick wash might calm her mind and help to focus on the task at hand. Besides she was in dire need of some stress relief.

That comforting thought ended the moment Kalthara found the damn thing.

“What the quiznak is this?” 

The only reason Kalthara succeeded in identifying the ‘shower’ was because the nozzle of the hose was slowly dripping water. The hose wasn’t even properly restrained. It was just a long tube that extended from what she hoped was a heater, draped over the branch of a tree, and left to hang a few feet in the air.  Poking at the nozzle, she watched in contempt as the ‘shower’ swayed from side to side like a waterlogged pendulum. 

Taking a deep calming breath, Kalthara began to strip. 

She was a blade. A warrior trained to fight against the most expansive empire in known history. She could handle a primitive cleansing instrument.

Now all she had to do was figure out how it worked.

* * *

 

_ Why am I even doing this?  _ Austin couldn’t help but ask himself as he inspected the oversized college jersey, wondering if it’d be big enough to fit his alien guest. _ It’s not like she’s even gonna care. Hell chances are she’ll bitch about my ‘primitive rags’ or some such. _

Deciding that, even if Kalthara tore apart the shirt, it wouldn’t be much of a loss Austin set the jersey aside and began wondering what he was going to do about pants. Some kind of skit would make the most sense. Not much of a chance of a significantly long skirt failing to fit.

However he didn’t HAVE a skirt. So they were going to have to improvise.

He stared at a pair of old worn out boxer shorts and wondered if giving an emissary of the stars his old underwear to wear would be considered a declaration of war. Then again, if he didn’t mention what they were for, how would she even know? For that matter, did aliens even wear underwear? He couldn’t see a reason why they would. Afterall, gravity probably rendered certain uses for undergarments a moot point. 

Unless of course they had some kind of counteractive anti gravity shit going on. But even then, what were the chances that alien lifeforms had developed a culture of fashion that included underwear in the first place? Did Kal wear underwear? Her suit was so armored it hadn’t even occurred to him to wonder that.

As he sat there, mulling over the pros and cons of asking Kalthara about whether or not aliens found a need for braziers, it occured to Austin that he had an alien in his house. 

He had an alien.

Staying in his house.

Presumably taking a shower in his backyard.

It was funny how long it had taken to fully set in. Austin had heard about delayed realizations and shock, but had never truly experienced anything like it himself. Normally whatever he thought or felt would come on immediately and he’d just power through it.

This time though, the full weight of the situation hadn’t fully settled in until now. 

Allowing himself to lay down on the floor of the loft and closing his eyes, Austin reflected on what he had just accomplished.

He’d made first contact with alien life. Survived an attack by some mysterious entity from the stars. And touched, actually touched, an alien spacecraft with his own hand.

This was everything he’d ever wanted as a child. As a hidden away lonely kid with a working single mom and only the stars to keep him company at night. His dreams had been filled to the brim with faraway worlds he could drift off to and hide away in while the world around him fell to pieces.

Opening his eyes again, Austin watched as the fan on the ceiling made it repetitive circular motions. His eyes traced the rotation over and over and over. Until he had to close his eyes again.

He had an alien in his house.

What was he going to do about it?

* * *

 

She could fix this.

It wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Sure, maybe she’d torn off one of the dials while attempting to figure out how to turn the thing one. And sure maybe in her frustration she had ripped the hose from the water heater, tearing the tube away from the containing, causing the precious liquid to begin going everywhere.

But that wasn’t… irreversible. 

Kalthara had at least managed to find the place where the tube needed to be connected. Unsurprisingly it was the hole where all the water was coming out. Go figure. However, she was having a little bit of trouble making the darn thing STAY. 

She had tried just slipping it on, only for the force of the water to push the tube away. Then she had thought that perhaps she had not slipped it on far enough. Then that maybe she’d gone and pushed it too far in.

Everytime she failed she got a faceful of water for her efforts.

Kalthara roared in frustration.

“Stop this instant you annoying quiznaking-”

The flow of water suddenly laxed, weakened, and then stopped. Leaving nothing but a dripping hole and a whole lot of mud in its place.

She stared at the now very innocent looking socket and cleared her throat.

“Ah, yes. Very well then. Uhm… run diagnostics?”

There was the sound of someone very purposely clearing their throat louder than usual.

Turning, she saw Austin standing by the house. One hand was resting on a dial similar to the one she had broken, and the other…

“Why are you covering your eyes?”

“I have a better question.” Austin said, eyes still covered. “How the hell did you manage,” he gestured to the surrounding area. “THIS?”

Ears going slack in embarrassment, Kalthara didn’t look him in the eye. Or rather she wouldn’t have if his eyes were not already covered.

“There was a… Technical malfunction.”

Austin took a deep breath. Then he let out a very long, very deep, very resigned sigh.

“Just… nevermind. Kind of my own fault for not showing supervisin.”

Kalthara scowled. 

“I do NOT need supervising.”

Removing his hand from the dial, but still keeping the other over his eyes Austin began to blindly feel his way around the house.

“That’s not really all that convincin in this situation.” He said as he rounded the corner. “When yer done towelin off I’ve got some clothes you can try to wear. Just dont tract the mud into the house.”

She watched him go with an odd mix of humiliation and confusion.

On the one hand, his attitude continued to infuriate her. Yet on the other he seemed to be acting differently than he had a mere varga before. It was… an unnatural change.

_ It does not matter. _ She told herself.  _ His emotional state does not concern you so long as he fulfills his role. Still… it may be productive to inquire about it. _

She waited a few minutes to round the house herself. Didn’t need him thinking she was following on his coattails like an obedient little-

Kalthara stopped at the front door to find a pile of material folded and placed on the front stoop. Well, he HAD said he had found clothes for her to wear. None of it looked like it provided much in terms of defense. 

However, it was becoming more and more clear to her that her presence on this planet was likely to be prolonged for an untold amount of time. If that was the case, then it was ideal for her to preserve her superior marmoran suit as best she could. She didn’t need it having any defects once she was finally off this rock and into open space.

“Okay so,” Austin’s muffled voice came through behind the door. “First you towel off, and then you put the pants on first and-”

“I can dress myself!” Kalthara yelled pointedly through the door.

There was a pause.

“Are ya sure?”

“I was wearing clothes when I arrived was I not?!”

Another pause.

“You were also CLEAN when you got here. More or less. But then you broke my shower.”

“That was-” she stopped, taking a moment to try and calm herself. These repetitive arguments were getting her nowhere. 

Picking up the towel she responded much more evenly as she dried herself.

“That was a matter of technical difference. The cleaning quarters my people use are not so complicated.”

“A hose over a tree branch is technologically complicated?”

“In the manner of all inferior technology? Yes.”

There was a sigh heard behind the door.

“You know what? I’ll take it. Was thinking about redoing that shower anyway. Once yer dressed, come inside. Need to figure out what to do next.”

Kalthara grunted in response as she began to get dressed.

* * *

 

Austin didn’t HAVE to go to jail.

Iverson knew that.

Some would argue leaving him to live the rest of his days alone in the desert with no hope of ever achieving a higher purpose would be punishment enough. Anything beyond that would seem almost cruel to set on a dying man. However, Iverson wasn’t concerned with crime and punishment at the moment.

Right now, all he needed and all he wanted was to talk to Austin.

Though ‘talk’ may have been too kind of a word for what Iverson intended. Confront was a much more accurate a term. Intervene, if he was feeling generous.

His plan of attack was simple.

He’d corner Austin, present him with the evidence, and give him an ultimatum. He could either drop the drugs now, or the video would be handed over to the police. The garrison job was out of the question at this point.

That was all he could do for the man now. Offer him a choice. He could either die in jail or die as a free man.

It wasn’t something Iverson wanted to do.

But he was going to anyway.

Revving the engine of his jeep, Iverson turned off the main road and down the path towards Austin’s shack.

* * *

 

“What do you mean, ‘how do I sleep’?” 

Kalthara’s voice was tinged with suspicion. The shards of the shattered plate lay spread out on the coffee table organized by size.

“I mean,” Austin said trying to choose his words carefully. He did not want every discussion to turn into some kind of argument. They weren’t getting anywhere that way. “That I don’t exactly have a lot of space. So it’s probably best if we figure out how sleeping is going to work. I mean, you do sleep right?”

“Of course I sleep! Everything sleeps!”

“Well it's not like I’ve ever met an alien before so can ya blame me for askin?”

Kalthara rolled her eyes before refocusing on her project. “I can sleep wherever I can fit. It is not a matter of great concern.”

“Not for you no.” Austin leaned on the coffee table, watching Kalthara inspect each individual shard. “But for me it's kind of a different story.”

He watched as she held one of the tiniest shard up to her eye before comparing it to another.

“What are you doing anyway?”

“I am inspecting this ancient material. What does it look like I am doing?”

“Looks like yer playin around with shards of glass.”

“It is not glass.” She replied absently. “I thought so myself at first, but its not.”

Austin looked down at the rest of the shards on the table. He had to admit that, while they did look like some kind of glass or crystal, they were neither. It was an otherworldly material, that Austin couldn’t quite find a direct comparison to.

He fought the urge to look at the loose floorboard.

“Look if nothin else, you can sleep in the loft. At least that way if anyone shows up you can hide.”

Kalthara stopped messing with the shards and looked at Austin.

“I mean it's not like a lot of people come out here.” He said suddenly trying his best to sound reassuring. “But you never know.”

“Would it really be that big of a deal?” she asked.

Austin blinked at the change in tone. Kalthara sounded genuinely confused.

“What d'ya mean?”

“Others.” She stated. “Seeing me. Would it truly be that much of a problem?”

He opened his mouth to reply but stopped. How was he going to explain this? 

Saying outright that there was a very real possibility of her being captured, locked up, and experimented on definitely set up the wrong picture of humanity. Though not an entirely inaccurate one. On the other hand, he couldn’t exactly encourage her to run around in the open.

“It’s… complicated.” He finally said. “I mean, other humans can be kinda… nervy.”

“Violent you mean?”

He swallowed.

“S-some…” he admitted. “But for the most part we’re not.”

“And yet you keep me hidden from ‘the most part’?”

“You don’t have to be a violent person to do violent things.” he said pointedly. “Especially if you get scared.”

“Oh,” Her voice was filled with realization. “You think they would be afraid of me?”

“It’s less think and more know if I’m bein honest.”

“Oh.”

Austin couldn’t quite place the tone of her voice in that moment. It wasn’t a surprised tone as much as a disappointingly resigned one.

“Does that…. Surprise you?” he asked.

“No, not really.” She said absently as she returned to her work. “I really should have expected it actually.”

“So, uh, you’d be okay with the loft?”

“Hmm?” Her attention was now almost entirely transfixed on the project at hand. “Oh, yes yes. Whatever you say.”

“Oh. Well. Okay then.”

Austin removed his arm from the table and just sat and watched Kalthara work.

Amazingly enough, the jersey and boxers he had dug out were just big enough to fit her. Though, it wasn’t a perfect fit. If Kalthara ever raised her arms, Austin was sure he’d get a good look at her midriff. Even so it was better than letting her run around in that black suit in the middle of the desert.

A part of him wanted to ask her all about space. About what it was like. But after everything that happened Austin didn’t think she’d ever give him a straight answer. Hell, he wasn’t even confident she would bother paying him any mind.

After all if some shmuck had started incessantly asking him questions about where he was from and what they did there whilst he was stranded with no hope of rescue, he’d probably get annoyed too.

“So I’m… Just gonna hang out outside for a bit.” He said as he stood up.

Kalthara didn’t even look up. “You do that.”

Austin took a deep breath as he stepped outside, letting the door swing closed behind him. The sun had just about set under the horizon now and night was slowly beginning to come on. He looked up at the ever familiar sight of an endless expanse of stars above him.

It was almost like he was looking at them for the first time.

Before each and every individual star had just been a sort of imaginary companion for his loneliness. But now, with an alien sitting on his couch doing tedious work, he was suddenly very much aware that every one of the stars he could see might have some kind of alien life form living near it. His mind should have been blown with the insane realization that mankind wasn’t alone in the universe, but as it was, all he could feel was an overwhelming feeling of…. Obviousness?

Now that life beyond earth's solar system had more or less been confirmed, any deep philosophical discussion about the endless barren expanse of the universe seemed arbitrary at best. It was just something that WAS. 

Frankly Austin wasn’t sure mankind was ready for that kind of responsibility.

Earth breaking through and making contact with alien lifeforms now felt less like a great accomplishment and more like taking a toddler to a huge formal event. Sure, it might turn out well, but chances were by the end of the night someone was going home in tears.

He took another deep gulp of the cool oncoming night air.

There was nothing he could really do about that now. All he could really do was approach this whole thing one step at a time and hope it didn’t end with him slipping and falling into a pit of spikes.

Leaning against one of the posts, Austin closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the night time desert.

The wind.

The crickets.

The revving engine in the distance-

Austin’s eyes shot open and turned, stiff as a board toward the horizon. Squinting through the gathering gloom, he could just make out the sight of a pair of headlights and an oncoming dust cloud.

He swallowed.

Iverson was coming to visit.


End file.
